Once Burned, Twice Scarred
by NotAContrivance
Summary: Spinelli has bad luck. For example, her exchildhood best friend turned archenemy has just professed his love for her, she woke up by falling off a jungle gym, just may have a few broken ribs, and now, to top it all off, she can't even get a Coke!
1. A Kiss on the Court

Okay, see, I don't know about this fic. It's really really really weird. Because it involves flashbacks and switching points of view and odd inner commentary... Aside from that, most of it is set when "The Gang" is in high school, I think they're sophomores (I had it all figured out)... And, well, things DEFINITELY aren't like they used to be...  
  
Spinelli scowled as her friend Gretchen pushed her towards the house. Spinelli fought back.  
  
"You can't make me!" Spinelli hissed.  
  
The taller girl tried her best, but couldn't battle with her friend's wrath. She looked Spinelli in the eye.  
  
"You have to! Or the Ashleys will do something horrible!" Gretchen exclaimed.  
  
Spinelli sighed and rubbed her temples.  
  
"Why do I even GO to sleepovers with those Powder Puffs?" Spinelli moaned.  
  
She looked at the ground. Gretchen bit her lip, feeling guilty.  
  
"Because you didn't know they were going to be there?" Gretchen replied nervously.  
  
"Exactly!" Spinelli jumped up, pacing.  
  
"They always dare me to kiss one of my friends. Bad things always happen," Spinelli lamented.  
  
Gretchen rolled her eyes. Spinelli's eyes were devoid of tears. She had already shed too many over a cruel dare gone astray. Spinelli sighed and sat on the curb. Gretchen followed.  
  
"I will not kiss Vince. Or Mikey, or Gus, for that matter. I don't care if they're all "babes". I still won't kiss 'em! And I most definitely will not kiss T.J. DETWEILER! EVER! I've been through that twice and it's no picnic!" Spinelli ranted, tired of the Ashleys' childish games.  
  
Gretchen sighed and looked at the sky. She straightened out her tight blue dress.  
  
"Look, Spinelli, do it now. He's almost alone!" Gretchen pleaded.  
  
Spinelli rolled her eyes.  
  
"T.J., Mikey, and Gus are all there. And they're playing basketball. The only way it could get worse is if I kissed him at lunch on Monday. And I won't do that either," Spinelli snapped.  
  
Gretchen sighed again.  
  
"Spinelli, you have to!" Gretchen said boldly.  
  
Spinelli threw her head in her hands.  
  
"I don't even LIKE Vince! He's as dumb as a box of rocks! All he thinks about is sports, sports, SPORTS! And I'm not even thinking about the others! Mikey's one of those mushy, throw-pillow-esque "thespians". Gus, is, CREEPY! And T.J....I can't STAND him! Nuh uh, no way, you can't make me!" Spinelli growled.  
  
Gretchen shook her head and thought for a minute. She got an idea and jumped up. She grabbed Spinelli's arm.  
  
"Hey, I'll distract T.J.! Then you can do it!" Gretchen shouted.  
  
Spinelli sighed and her eyes lit up.  
  
"Who says I even have to go through with this?" Spinelli insinuated.  
  
However, the Ashleys cast a shadow upon them. They smirked.  
  
"We like do. I like would like never like have like thought like that like Ashley like Spinelli like would like turn like down like a like challenge. SCANDALOUS!" The Ashleys shrieked.  
  
Spinelli's eyes narrowed. She smiled bitterly.  
  
"Okay, I'll do it. But you've got to do what I tell you to do once I'm done with this!" Spinelli sneered.  
  
The Ashleys nodded.  
  
"We like agree, like just like as like long like as like Gretchen like can't like interfere," Ashley A. spoke for the rest of the group.  
  
Spinelli nodded, a spark in her eyes. She smirked.  
  
"Okay, good. I'll be right back," Spinelli hissed, grinning evilly.  
  
The girl had always been rather dark, but ever since that horrible day, all the way back in fifth grade, she had changed. The Ashleys knew they were responsible for it, and they felt bad, on some strange, often ignored, level. Spinelli was a loose cannon now. She detested most of her former best friends and was so much more closed off.  
  
Spinelli ran and kissed Vince fast. Vince was shocked, T.J. was shocked, and everyone else was shocked. Spinelli broke the kiss fast and turned to face the Ashleys and Gretchen.  
  
"I believe it's your turn, Ashley's," Spinelli bit.  
  
Everyone stared at her in awe. Spinelli turned to Vince and rolled her eyes.  
  
"What? Are you so egotistical that you think I would actually kiss you for a reason other than because of a dare from them?" Spinelli spit.  
  
Vince's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. This was the most Spinelli had said to him since fifth grade. She rolled her eyes and sighed. However, her eyes locked with T.J.'s. They glared harshly at each other.  
  
"What are you staring at?" Spinelli jeered.  
  
T.J. pretended to think.  
  
"There are SO many ways to answer that question," T.J. remarked, with malice in his tone.  
  
Spinelli's eyes narrowed more.  
  
"Whatever, Teddy!" Spinelli sneered.  
  
T.J.'s eyes narrowed at the nickname.  
  
"Shove it, Ashley. What are you doing here?" T.J. snapped.  
  
Spinelli rolled her eyes.  
  
"I was just leaving," Spinelli replied, suddenly tired.  
  
T.J. nodded.  
  
"Good."  
  
Spinelli left and everyone stood there, wondering what had just happened.  
  
- Loren ;  
  
Review? Please? And, oh, yeah, I don't own Recess. If I did, it would be still on...Honestly! 


	2. Last Day of Innocence

Okay, this chapter, is, well, I'm just gonna come right out and say it...It whomps. It's really short, somewhat pointless, and, well, pointless. I don't own Recess. And another thing, from this point on, the fic's in Spinelli's POV...Which, I might add, is really fun to write...Except for one chapter...  
  
As Spinelli left, she thought back to what had happened nearly six summers ago. What had made her general attitude on life take a u-turn. And to think, it was all the Ashleys fault. She sighed and let the blocked memories bombard her for the first time in six long years.  
  
FLASHBACK  
  
Six years ago...  
  
Spinelli dove into the pool and heard her friend's faint pleas.  
  
"Marco. Marco? Marco! WHOMPING MARCO!" T.J. repeated.  
  
Gretchen, who was standing poolside, giggled. Spinelli's head bobbed up short enough for her to speak. Then it resubmerged itself.  
  
"Polo!"  
  
T.J. groped around blindly, hitting only water. The last day of childhood innocence. That day ended it all for her.  
  
END FLASHBACK  
  
She sighed. How she wished she could undo that day and all that came with it.  
  
- Loren ;  
  
Intrigued? Well, then, Review! 


	3. Blackmailed Moves Lead to LongOverdue Co...

This chapter's also in flashback and Spinelli's POV. This is fun...Heehee! And yeah, this is kind of weird for a forth-fifth grader, but what am I gonna do about it? Lol... And it's all leading up to why T.J. and Spinelli hate each other, surprisingly enough...  
  
Anyways, I don't own Recess. That great honor belongs to Joe Ansolanabehere (or however he spells it...Man, that must've sucked as a kid) and Paul Whatshisface...Hey, speaking of those dudes, whatever happened to them? Disney could really use them now. Or, for that matter, Nickelodean... I miss them. They should make something else. I'd watch it. Seriously.  
  
So, Paul and Joe...If you're out there...Make something else. I need to get obsessed with a decent cartoon. No, seriously, there aren't really any good ones out there. I mean that. Really. I mean, my childhood had some pretty good cartoons... Now, I'm a teen and I still want to watch them, so can we have some decent ones? Because you know, if I keep watching the crap that's put out nowadays, I'm gonna wind up...Well, it won't be pretty...My brain will be fried, literally.  
  
Anyways, after that delightful rant about the utter lack of decent cartoons, here's my fic. I think they might be a little OOC, but whatever... I mean, people change, right?  
  
I got out of the Ashleys' pool, seeing as Ashley A. had been gesturing towards me.  
  
"What?" I snapped.  
  
She smiled, a smile I was sure was full of evil.  
  
"Well, like Spinelli, like here's like what like I like want like you like to like do," Ashley A. said confidently.  
  
She handed me a paper with instructions on it. I looked down at the paper, shocked.  
  
"What in the name of Bob are you trying to get me to do here?" I hissed angrily.  
  
She smirked and I realized that she had set me up. I glared fiercely at her.  
  
"You can't make me," I snarled.  
  
She rolled her eyes and pulled a tape from her pocket, playing with it. Her smirk widened.  
  
"Well, like actually, like that's like where like you're like wrong. I like mean, like we like wouldn't like want like this like tape like getting like out, like would like we?" Ashley threatened.  
  
I winced, eyes focused on the tape. I counted to three under my breath before snatching the cassette. I dropped it on the ground and smashed it. Ashley A. grinned.  
  
"Oh, like I like have like more like copies like at like home. Like MANY like more like copies."  
  
I sighed and rubbed my forehead.  
  
"Why do ya want me to do this?" I asked, curious.  
  
She shrugged.  
  
"If like it'll like humiliate like you, like then like it's like good like for like me," Ashley A. sneered.  
  
I sighed.  
  
"Okay, fine. I'll do it. Just leave me alone from now on or I'll beat ya to a pulp!" I barked.  
  
I left the hall, nervously waiting. Ashley A. had left and so had most everyone. I waited quietly until Vince left. I didn't want to do this. But I had to, or my brother Joey would get in trouble again. I sighed, I was only in fifth grade! I quietly walked over and slid softly into the pool. The water was cold, but my mind was on other things.  
  
I swam over to T.J., who smiled. I bit my lip, breathed out and kissed T.J. really fast. I backed up really fast and tried to leave. T.J.'s voice stopped me.  
  
"Spinelli? What'd you do that for?" T.J. asked, confused.  
  
I turned to face him and swam over. I sighed. Might as well tell him now. It's not like I have anything to lose.  
  
"Okay, Teej, I'm gonna be blunt about this. Frankly, I'm sick of people who like each other not saying it. And, well, Teej, I like you. Okay, see, I said it. And don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about because I know you and Vince and the guys have talked about this. So, what do you think?" I grunted.  
  
He was silent for a moment.  
  
"So THAT'S why my parents wouldn't let you sleep over!" T.J. exclaimed.  
  
I shook my head and rolled my eyes. That boy. He looked me straight in the eye.  
  
"Look, Spin, I don't know what to say," T.J. replied calmly.  
  
Then he kissed me. We broke apart and I smiled.  
  
"You like me, don'tcha?" I teased.  
  
He rolled his eyes and I climbed out of the pool. I waved goodbye to T.J. and left. I was in such a good mood that I didn't even notice Randall, watching and taking notes.  
  
LATER ON...  
  
Randall approached me, smirking. This was bad. I just knew it.  
  
"What?" I snapped, not in the mood to deal with him.  
  
Randall grinned.  
  
"I don't know, why don't you tell me? Or were you too busy kissing Detweiler to notice?" Randall taunted.  
  
"Hey, Ashley, if this gets out, your rep's ruined. I'll forget all about it if you become my girlfriend," Randall blackmailed.  
  
I was livid and I socked him right in the eye.  
  
"Don't call me that! And becoming your girlfriend would be even worse, so scram!" I snarled.  
  
"You should think about it. You'd probably like being with me," Randall hinted.  
  
My jaw dropped and I rolled up my sleeves.  
  
"That's it! I'm gonna cream ya, ya little worm!" I shrieked, grabbing his notepad and ripping up the pages with the dirt on me and Teej into smithereens.  
  
Randall frowned and ran for his life. I chased after him.  
  
"You'd better run, ya dirty scumbag!" I threatened.  
  
I stopped running and exhaled against the wall. That little snitch better not tell anyone about what he'd seen. Or else.  
  
Loren ;  
  
I REALLY, really, ReAlLy liiiiiiiiiike-wait, no, LOVE! REVIEWS! So, you could give me some. That would be really cool. See, I'm doing you a service, and you pay me for the service with reviews... Sorta. Lol... 


	4. Gotta Get Outta Limbo

Coming of age story? That's very flattering, Clintronic Waldrup. And that's another thing, how'd you choose a penname like that? Anyways...  
  
Now, class, let's review. Do I own Recess?  
  
Anybody?  
  
The answer is NO!  
  
Oh, in the next chapter we kind of find out WHY they hate each other, though, if you ask me, it's a pretty crappy reason. But aren't all reasons for hate crappy anyways? Well, I guess there are other reasons why they hate each other, and you'll find out about those in the present chapters.  
  
Here's the chapter. Enjoy and please review...  
  
I walked outside and everyone was laughing at me. My blood boiled and I knew that someone was gonna get it if they kept it up.  
  
"Boy-liker!"  
  
"Slut."  
  
"Flirt."  
  
"Got a boyfriend lately?"  
  
"What's up with you and T.J., Spinelli?"  
  
"She likes him, duh!"  
  
I sighed and then glared at everyone.  
  
"I dunno what you're talkin' about," I hissed.  
  
But the teasing continued. I had to talk to Teej. I spotted him playing pool with Vince. I roughly yanked him out of the game, ignoring Vince's protests.  
  
"We need to talk, Teej," I mumbled, annoyed.  
  
We were now alone in a hallway. I let him go. He smiled.  
  
"What did you want to talk about, Spin?" T.J. asked, grinning.  
  
I smiled half-heartedly and sighed.  
  
"They know, T.J.," I maintained.  
  
T.J. paled.  
  
"Oh."  
  
I exhaled.  
  
"Look, they've already started messin' with me. And I need to know a few things first. I know you like it when people like you, okay? And this probably won't do good things for either of our reputations. We can decide where this leads, Teej," I said seriously.  
  
T.J. nodded, frowning. I looked him straight in the eye.  
  
"We can either be just friends or a couple. There is no in-between. It doesn't matter to me. Just choose one and give me the answer when you've decided. I've got some flattening to do, see ya later, Teej," I declared.  
  
I then left, wanting an answer desperately. At this point, the answer didn't matter. I just wanted to get out of this limbo stage. It's not like I'm gonna be all sad if he doesn't want to be more-than-friends with me. But, I mean, I'm not gonna be jumping for joy, either.  
  
In the end, it's his choice, not mine.  
  
- Loren ;  
  
Man, Spinelli's more mature in this chapter than she is in the rest of the fic. gulps Oh well...  
  
Anyways, people who reviewed...Here is where you get mentioned... Whoo-hoo for you!  
  
Spinelli Woods, Esquire Kami no Hikari SilverRainbow223 Yankee Doodle Blonde Angel9220042004 Rosemary the Rubix Cube Clintronic Waldrop  
  
Yay! Okay, now the author needs to rest a bit, and catch her breath... Remember, REVIEW! 


	5. One's Burned, but Both Have Scars

Okay, this is the chapter where we uncover why they hate each other. It's kind of a lousy reason, to tell the truth. At least on Spinelli's end. I dunno...I guess things just escalated after the whole thing.  
  
Remember, I don't own Recess. I do love it though. It reminds me of my childhood.  
  
I mean, I WAS in fourth grade (Hmm...Did it go from 1996-99 or to 1998?) when it was on. Well, at some point, anyways. Hmm... I was apparently in Fourth Grade in 1999... Curious.  
  
I was like Spinelli in Fourth Grade, too. Seriously, it's strange. I mean, I've got dark hair. And I did threaten to beat people up and torture boys. My parents aren't secret agents though. And I hated wrestling. I was a tomboy though, it was like a fad when I was in school. Seriously, I don't think we had any "Ashley" types. And I didn't go by my real first name either. I went by a nickname. Still do, actually... Ugh. And my mom is really embarrassing, and my dad IS named Bob. And, you know, I had a crush on a guy in first grade, and everyone knew... Man, that sucked. 'Course, y'know, my friends were all smart and like all girls. And I didn't play sports... I ran around and hung out on these bars we had, and by the sewers too... lol. Okay, must stop ranting about my elementary school days... Good times though. And, my, how things have changed. Man, I'm going into high school. Talk about a buzzkill. Okay, I'm going to post this and then post another and then type up another chapter (I have a lot more of them than it seems). Hopefully.  
  
Anyways, 'member, I like reviews. And all you reviewers rock! Anyways, hope ya like it.  
  
LATER THAT DAY...  
  
I was walking past the T.J. and Vince's room in the mansion (because, see, we were watching the joint for Thaddeus T. Third the Third, who was on vacation for a week). Anyways, they were being stupid and they left the door open. They were talking, and I was shocked to find out it was about me.  
  
"So, you think you could help me?" T.J. begged.  
  
Vince shook his head, hands in pockets.  
  
"I dunno. I can't say I've ever been in your position before. I'd probably stay friends, that way no one gets made fun of," Vince advised.  
  
"I don't know Vince. But, I mean, me and Spinelli? We'd probably argue endlessly. And then she'd kill me, 'cause we'd end up breaking up fast anyways..." T.J. pondered.  
  
Vince started laughing and T.J. joined in.  
  
My blood boiled and I stormed past the door. I couldn't listen to any more. I was gonna pulverize something. And here was an Ashley, conveniently placed in my path.  
  
"Hi, like Spin-ugly!" Ashley B. chirped.  
  
I brandished my fist, too tired to smack her down now.  
  
"Buzz off, wimp!" I snapped.  
  
She rolled her eyes.  
  
"Whatever, like so, like when's like your like first like date?" Ashley B. asked politely.  
  
I punched her with a resounding smack. I then turned and left angrily. And ran right into T.J. I scowled and crossed my arms over my chest.  
  
"Sheesh! What is with everyone today? Acting like whomping stalkers, all of you! Ashley A., Ashley B., Randall, and you! Crimeny!" I snapped, annoyed.  
  
T.J. gave me a confused look. I glared at him.  
  
"Don't look at me like you don't know what you did, you jerk!" I yelled.  
  
I glared at him. I was so gonna enjoy this. I grinned.  
  
"Anyways, I'm gonna get even, and you can't stop me!" I laughed bitterly.  
  
T.J. frowned.  
  
"What'd I do?" T.J. asked, puzzled.  
  
I glared at my friend. Or ex-friend, the way this was turning out. I looked around. Crap. Where were those Ashleys when I actually wanted them around? I spotted Randall and ran over to him. He ducked behind a tree.  
  
"I-I'm s-so s-s-s-sorry, S-spin-elli," Randall shivered.  
  
I rolled my eyes.  
  
"Whatever, ya little weasel. Now you gotta listen to what I have to say. And spread it around. If anyone asks, I didn't tell you this, got it? Good. And if you violate this little agreement, I'll kill ya, ya dweeb!" I hissed.  
  
I whispered something and Randall nodded, terrified. He scurried off. I was satisfied. I didn't know how miserable I was to become.  
  
- Loren ;  
  
Ugh, won't let me do asterisks. Ugh. Anyways, notice how I never say what she told Randall? Just assume that it was something bad or horribly embarrassing. Like him wearing footie pajamas or something. Anyways, yeah. 


	6. Six Years to Stew

Okay, now, this chapter is set in the present. Spinelli's reflecting a little bit after what happened on the court.  
  
And remember, I don't own Recess. How I wish it did... Ah, I miss my youth. School's starting soon. I'm sorry that I haven't really updated lately, actually, but my computer's been a little off lately. The poor thing.  
  
Anyways, I've been writing a lot of this fic lately... Seriously, it's a crazy amount. I'm like having a love affair with it... lol... Anyways, I'm getting toward the end in the writing, which is weird because I dunno how I'm gonna close it off. Anyways, fun stuff ahead.  
  
In this chapter, Spinelli kinda explains what's been happening over the past six years. Oh yeah, Mikey and Gus really aren't in this fic at all, yet, anyways. It's mostly Spinelli and T.J. revolving, actually... Surprise, surprise! Anyways, enjoy...  
  
When I think of my life now, I feel regret towards what I did that sunny day. But you can't change the past. No matter how lonely I was.  
  
Everyone laughed at T.J. for days, months, years even. Sometimes I think they're still laughing at him. I don't tell anyone my secrets. Ever. Might be why I'm such a headcase.  
  
A diary is even worse than telling someone. With a diary, they have evidence. Proof. With words, it's theirs against yours. You can deny what you told them, say that they lied. People will believe you. But a diary, that's in writing.  
  
I lost most of my friends that summer. It was the loneliest year of my life. I musta beaten up just about the whole school that year. I can't remember how many times I got suspended, a detention, or how many fights I was in. But, if someone had a black eye, or a bloody lip, it was probably my handiwork.  
  
I still had my standards. I didn't beat the crap outta anyone unless I had a reason. And I don't beat up littler kids. Bigger kids, yeah, but no little kids. Anyways, T.J. couldn't tell anyone a deep secret of mine, because, frankly, he didn't know any. And he was my closest friend, my neighbor, a guy I almost dated.  
  
He did get me back though. It's not like he was the Prankster Prince for nothing. But I matched him. In sixth grade, I was just the kid who you'd better not piss off, or your face would be meeting my hand. I heard the names they called me behind my back. I can't say it didn't hurt, because that would be a lie. Then again, I'm not one of those people who'd just come home and cry. And then, in seventh grade, the Great Prank War began.  
  
T.J. started it. And I followed it up. The war was dangerous and what little friendliness there was between us disappeared completely. Each prank was another blow to my already chipped armor. It became routine. Mikey intervened and stopped the war.  
  
He ignored reasoning with me completely, partially because, even though he was bigger and taller than me, he was still scared of me. He gave T.J. a talking to, and, well, he stopped. I personally didn't care.  
  
Things went even more downhill from there. All the teachers seemed to think that our extreme dislike for each other was "cute". They don't realize how ugly hate is. So, naturally, we were stuck in all the same classes, sitting next to each other in every single one. The dislike grew into loathing.  
  
And a rivalry formed. Pranks reappeared as commonplace. We'd trip each other in the halls, randomly break out into brawls. After so many suspensions and lectures, we've begun to avoid each other. Or try at least. We're still in those same classes, no matter how hard we try. Insults go back and forth when we're together.  
  
But I can't say I hate him completely. I don't believe I ever have. For some reason, I'm more on guard around him, yet I don't know why. I won't embrace the guy, but I won't kill him either. Don't ask me why I'm so mean to him if I don't hate him. I'm madder at him than anyone else, and I want to throttle him a lot. But I don't know why. I don't know many answers to anything.  
  
And now Vince is dating Gretchen. A wrench in my plans. Especially since I never liked that jock in the first place (okay, I know that sounds strange, especially from me, a girl who's playing every sport available and then some). Considering that I'm Gretchen's best friend and T.J.'s Vince's best buddy, well, I'm screwed.  
  
I swear, half of the reason they're dating is to make us play nice. I can see the horror of this relationship. T.J. and I are going to be forced to coexist. But I can tell you one thing, it'll be anything but peaceful.  
  
And, so help me, if I hear the words double date and mine and T.J.'s names mentioned with them, I'll kill both of them, best friends or not.  
  
- Loren ;  
  
Reviews are good, they are like food... To authors like me, heehee!  
  
If you want more crappy rhymes, don't review. Lol... 


	7. Not a Lawyer or a Judge

This chapter's a little different. It's set in the time that'll be used for the next billion chapters, but it's in T.J.'s POV, which is something I don't ever use again in the fic, so this is just about the only chance you have to see T.J.'s emotions through his own eyes instead of Spinelli's. Let's just say he's more lenient than Spinelli. No, seriously, he changed from the first chapter. I should have kept him all mean. This would have been way more entertaining then. Anyways, I use characters as back-up, a lot actually. Like people from school, and teachers, and families... I'll even throw in random facts if I feel like it...  
  
Don't own Recess, as I was in what, first grade, when it came out. I was little more than a wild kindergartner then. Well, actually, I never got why the kindergartners were all so crazy. I wasn't crazy when I was a kindergartner, and I was crazy for sugar. 'Course, I read a lot, A LOT, back then. On with the show!  
  
I never thought that Vince would wind up dating Gretchen. I mean, genius, jock, something about that doesn't add up. See, I'm not egotistical enough to think that they're doing this to make Spinelli and I friends again, frankly because that would never ever happen. Vince goes for Ashleys and cheerleaders.  
  
It scares me when Spinelli and I are left in the same room. Mainly because about every time that happens, she winds up decking me. Man, I've had so many black eyes it's not funny. My parents really hate this whole war we've got going. Speaking of dark thoughts, I'm at school.  
  
And here comes the bearer of bad news herself. Spinelli. Naturally, Gretchen and Vince are standing next to me. Which can mean only one of two things. Well, actually, not two things. A confrontation's going to happen. It won't be pretty, either.  
  
One, two, three.  
  
"Okay, Gretch, what's the big deal of callin' me here?" Spinelli snapped.  
  
It's strange that after all of these years I still call her Spinelli. That's probably because somewhere, deep down, I still think of her as my fist-raising, ski-cap wearing, pig-tailed, threatening best friend. Okay, I was not supposed to think that. Must forget thought.  
  
Gretchen smiles, as does Vince. Something bad is coming. A lecture, definitely a lecture. Ten bucks says that they're going to tell us to be "nice". Gretchen adjusts her thin frames on her nose and Vince wraps an arm around her shoulders.  
  
"T.J., Spinelli, we have to lay some ground rules," Gretchen begins.  
  
And here it comes. Great.  
  
"Yeah, Teej. First of all, no fighting," Vince continues.  
  
Spinelli's going to start yelling in approximately five seconds. I mean, how stupid does he think we are?  
  
"Hey! Who says I have to listen to you?" Spinelli sneered.  
  
Gretchen glared at her, but Spinelli shrugged. I decided to put my two cents in.  
  
"She has a REALLY good point, guys," I replied in agreement.  
  
Vince and Gretchen eyed me suspiciously.  
  
"Why are you two agreeing?" They asked in tandem.  
  
I shoot them a dirty look.  
  
"We both don't want to be forced into things we don't want to do," I grunted.  
  
They ignored me and continued.  
  
"Also, you can't yell, play pranks, do anything illegal, argue, or anything else we object to. This means that you have to get along," Vince and Gretchen replied.  
  
The first was directed at Spinelli, who responded by breaking the rule, shouting every obscenity she knew and some she didn't at our friends. Always was a rebel. The second was directed at me, which makes me wonder just who says that elementary school doesn't affect every aspect of your life? Elementary school seems to affect every fiber of mine.  
  
Spinelli did have a good point. Why did we have to listen to them? I shrug and Spinelli decks me. I was not expecting that. So, naturally, I tackle her. And then, the principal walks right over to us. He's doing the whole scowling down at us thing again.  
  
"Well, well, well... Ms. Spinelli, Mr. Detweiler. I don't know whether to give you detention for fighting or for this public display of affection," Prickly, who coincidentally, had been offered the job here straight out of Third Street, said, practically dancing with glee.  
  
This reply, of course, made us jump off the floor in a millisecond.  
  
"Affection? Sheesh, have you been smokin' pot or something?" Spinelli retorted, annoyed.  
  
Prickly glared up at her.  
  
"Okay, so now you're on your way to insubordination and drug references, young lady," Prickly scowled.  
  
I sighed and grabbed her arm. Vince and Gretchen were glaring at us. I had to get her out of this mess before I got a suspension too.  
  
"Come on, Spinelli. You don't want another suspension," I replied, dragging her off.  
  
She looked up from where my hand was on her arm up to my eyes, glaring all the time. She jerked from my grasp, backhanded me one in the cheek and left. I winced and put a hand to my bruising cheek, while Spinelli raced to class.  
  
I will never understand her.  
  
- Loren ;  
  
Reviews are yummy... They taste good in my tummy... Let's play rummy!  
  
Ugh, I'm so frickin' sick of political ads. Aren't you? There's a load of primaries tomorrow, and I'm getting sick of all the mudslinging and our dramaqueen mayor... And something that really annoys me is that they aren't running any presidential ads, which are the really important ones. I mean, I can't even blink without seeing an ad for governor, congressperson, or one about these stupid amendments and how the bums are wasting our money. Anyways, you might wind up with another chapter, wheeha!  
  
I wasn't kidding about the bad rhymes. Seriously. I might even have to go on a rant. There are just some topics you don't want to get me started on. Really. 


	8. Not So Complex

See, I love this fic. I really do. Oh, and Spinelli's grammar won't be perfect, because, well, she's Spinelli. Anyways, her and T.J. cook up a lot of plots, but ironically, or maybe not ironically, actually, it's not really about that.

This chapter, like all those to follow, is in Spinelli's POV. It's a non-stop Spinelli-fest. Yay! Oh, and another thing, Spinelli has chronically bad luck. Seriously, it's really sad. Anyways, I don't own Spinelli, T.J., Ms. Finster, Principal Prickly, Vince, or Gretchen. I do, however, own the exchange student.

Ahem. On with the tale...

"You want me t' do WHAT?" I exclaimed, annoyed.

T.J. shushed me, staring at Vince. I scowled up at him, shaking my fist.

"But I don't wanna kiss Vince," I snapped venomously.

He glared at me.

"You did it on the basketball court," He hissed.

I rolled my eyes.

"That was different," I muttered in frustration.

Why did I ever team up with HIM?

Oh, right, mutual interest to break up Gretch and Vince over there.

My archrival, however, is acting terribly inhuman. He's a, well; I really shouldn't go there. You know, that whole no yelling rule.

T.J. gives me this stupid smug look and this urge I have to strangle him comes back into play.

"How was it different, Spinelli?" TJ asked smugly.

I glared at him.

"None of your business," I grunted.

T.J. rolled his eyes.

"Sure," T.J. said sarcastically.

He sighed, looking back at Vince. For crying out loud, we were hiding behind a locker! This sting operation, man, it's just like those pranks back in elementary. Only this one's much more serious.

He shoves me forward, because the "target" is alone. I shoved him right back. Right back into the wall, anyways.

"Come on, Spinelli, for old times' sake? I won't ever ask anything else from you. Besides, Spin, it's helping yourself too," T.J. pleaded.

He looked so pathetic, with his eyes black, and bruised face. I was really slacking off yesterday, wasn't I?

I mean, I never could bring myself to hit him that hard in the first place. Something that's always frustrated me to no end. And my other friends are raising large enough questions about this crap already.

Everyone thinks I like him or something. Do you honestly know how much that pisses me off? Seriously, do you?

I sighed, nodding. I walked over to Vince, oozing with self-confidence. And here comes Gretch. I really don't want to do this to her, in case she has feelings for the loser. But, in a fluid motion, I turn him towards me. And then I kiss him; right in front of every person in the whole crap-box of a school we've got here.

Not exactly what I was looking for. Seriously, what does Gretch see in him? I mean, hello, lousy kisser if I ever met one, and believe me, I have.

Please tell me I did not just think that. I'm the one to break the kiss, which leaves me wondering if he actually enjoyed that. Gretchen's storming off, and all in all, this scene isn't pretty. And heeere's Prickly.

So, I'm running. In the halls. Which, yeah, doesn't help my case at all, because hello, illegal according to the school. Like I want to get busted for the PDA back there. I'm just praying that Prick-Head didn't see that.

Which brings me to my current point, running behind the aforementioned lockers. T.J. grabs me by the jacket, not something I'm a huge fan of, by the way. Prick-Head, naturally, of course, followed me. Joy.

So, of course, what am I supposed to say? I turn to Teej real slow, y'know, and open my mouth, crossing my fingers that something good will come out of it.

"So, you have the answer to question two on the Math homework?" I blurted.

T.J. gave me this lame quizzical look and there's the wanting-to-slug-him-urge popping up yet again. But, fortunately, he's not as dumb as he looks; I know, big surprise, right? And so he goes, real smooth and all...

"Well, uh, I suck at Math," He stutters.

I roll my eyes.

Great. Real helpful. He's a regular Einstein, that one. But I smile like some kind of retarded sap and nod like the retarded sap I was just talking about.

"Okay then. I'll just ask my neighbor Bob, yeah. He's acin' Trig, so I'm sure he can help me with this dumb Geometry work. Thanks," I muster, lying horribly.

Man, did that sound phony. Even to me. And I just know that old Cactus Man is going to pin me down for some crap. Hahaha. Cactus Man, and Pinning...Just don't know what it is yet. My life. Totally sucks. But that is waay beyond my crazy little nut job of a point.

There's that dumb little suspicious look of his.

Why is it always directed at me?

I'm just a girl.

"You two are up to something," He says mysteriously, leaving us alone.

I sigh in relief, waiting until he's totally gone.

What the crap was that all about? He over-reacts sometimes. It's kind of sad, once you think about it in depth. Like he has nothing better to do than watch us like some creepy little Randall.

I can only thank God that Ms. Finster isn't teaching us anymore.

We'd definitely be screwed over then.

I actually think we might've broken them up. Yay!

Which is why I'm going to slap him across the face now. Ooh, a sting on my hand. That's good. It'll leave a mark. Score.

Aw, crap. That annoying exchange student is back before T.J. can even ask why I hit him. I'm not scared of anything, really, but that kid is just annoying.

I mean, throttle factor is even higher for him than T.J.

Which is really a huge surprise. We all know how much I don't like him. But yeah. Awkward.

"Well, T.J., here's your chance to pay me back," I whispered.

- Loren ;

If you liked it, review. Definitely.


	9. Fooling the Freak

See, there's a thing about this fic that you have to understand. And that thing is that I love doing Spinelli's massively long inner monologues. She thinks a lot more than you'd expect she would. Even when she's fighting.

Oh, that's another thing. She hits people a lot. Especially T.J.

And now, it's time to talk about ownership, or my apparent lack of it. I don't own Ashley A, B, T, Q, or S, T.J., Ms. Finster, Randall, Vince, or Prickly. I own the nameless exchange student. That's about it.

Well, okay, this day sounds completely weird. And it is. I mean, Ashley B's walking around in a burlap bag, Ashley Q's walking around sucking up to teachers, Ashley T's making out with Randall, and Ashley A, well, she's just watching. For the moment, anyways. All my doing. And trust me, I'm getting THE biggest kick out of the Ashley T/Randall thing.

The stupid exchange student following me around, perfectly normal. Which brings me to my current predicament. That insinuates that there's more than one, doesn't it.

I'm making a deal with my rival, yep, that's totally normal.

"Bonjour mon amie Ashley," Guter or Guntag, or whatever the crap his lame name is, says.

Makes me want to strangle him.

And, you know what?

He's not even French.

Seriously, I think he's from Detroit.

The fact that he even dared to call me Ashley makes me hit him in the nose. Hard.

"What'd you do that for?" El Phonio Exchange Studento says, actually sounding surprised.

I roll my eyes. Seriously, how dumb was this kid?

"No one calls me Ashley and gets away with it," I snap, frustrated.

T.J. looks thoughtful, but I glare at him. He'd better not say a word.

I can still beat the crap out of him.

"Just leave me alone, Weirdo," I grunt.

He's shaking his head. What kind of moron is this "foreign" kid?

"Why should I?"

Did he actually just say that? To me? He'd better not have. T.J.'s looking awfully smug.

"Because she's my girlfriend, that's why," T.J. says in a threatening tone.

Oh brother.

I knew that was coming and still...

Oh brother.

Gunther Georgie Gutentager What's His Name looks suspicious. Heck, even he can see the rivalry.

"That's a lie."

He sounds pretty sure.

Now how can I make him unsure?

There's one way. But it's not pretty. And I don't think any of us will like it. Especially me. And T.J.

But, after kissing Vince twice in so few days, this has got to be better, right? Right?

Well, maybe better's not the operative word here. How about, it can't be worse? Yeah, that'll work.

T.J. is apparently making the first move. He's kissing me.

Not something I wanted to happen.

But, if it gets rid of Dorkavhich over there, I'm down with it. I guess I have to be.

Man, this brings back a lot of memories from forth and fifth grade. I don't know what to think.

Pierre Le Pew or whatever the Chicago native's name is, is, well, shocked. Out of his mind, I'm sure. Just what I was going for.

Ugh, finally, he's breaking this kiss. It's about time. I was just about to push the little groper off me.

And we all know how hard I push. Yay!

Exchange Kiddo's running away! Man, he's a real wuss. There is no way he's from Detroit. More like a retirement colony in Florida. Might explain that weird accent too.

Okay, I really don't like the way ole Teej is looking at me. It's creepy. And believe me, I've met the creepy people here and beat the crap out of them. Needless to say, there are no more creepy people here.

Crap. And that earsplitting screech is the bell. And while Ms. Finster is not teaching us, she somehow got a gig here watching us. Stupid Prickly.

Wait a second. Were T.J. and I having a moment? Ugh. I think I'm going to get sick. He looks kind of disappointed. Oh brother.

- Loren ;

So, T.J. and Spinelli kissed for the first time. Aww. How sweet. Now that's gotta elicit a review. C'mon... Please?


	10. My Problems Stem from Detention

This is one seriously long chapter. It's like five pages. Anyways, uh, Spinelli says the word Jackass in this chapter, which I don't really consider a bad word, but she only says it once anyways. Oh, there's a lot of fighting in this fic. Lots. And this is really where it all starts. T.J. and Spinelli are very strange people.

I don't own Recess. I would like to find Paul and Joe and ask them to bring it back, but the Disney people don't really know good TV anymore, so it wouldn't come back. sobs And so, I have to accept the fact that I pretty much won't ever see a new episode of it again. sobs But I don't have to like it!

I do own the Bristones, though.

And that's why I'm writing this fic. This incredibly long fic...

It's lunch and Gretchen's sitting across from me, and she really doesn't look happy, but she doesn't look mad either. Vince is here, and he looks strange. But it looks like Teej is gonna wind up sitting next to me. Again. This whole alliance thing is really starting to piss me off.

"Spinelli, your plan didn't work," Gretchen said coolly, eating the rest of the meal in silence. The silence was really starting to annoy me.

Seriously, I really wish that I were sitting with my usual table, because it's so freaking quiet over here! It's also really weird to sit with my elementary friends again.

Even more proof that I have to break up Gretch and Vince. Meh, I'll get a detention, that way I can talk about it. I mean, I'll be locked in a classroom...Hmm; I'll get in a fight with him. That'll be really easy.

"Hey, Teej, why are you such a jackass?" I ask casually.

Everyone's looking up to gauge his reaction. He's just looking up calmly from his sandwich and I can tell he doesn't want to get into a fight with me.

"I'm not in the mood for a fight, Spinelli," T.J. says, sounding eerily calm.

Ugh. Nothing is going my way today. This permanent scowl is starting to get annoying. One, Two, Three, and TACKLE! Now Teej's on the floor, and I'm wrestling him again. He's actually fighting back today, which is surprising. It takes a while, but Finster shows up, pulls us off each other and slaps us in detention for the rest of the day.

In our school, He's one of the few who'll fight me, and I'm the only girl who hits guys. So beyond the point. T.J.'s glaring at me and rightfully so, but I don't care. I never really have.

"So, why'd you get us stuck here?" T.J. muttered.

I roll my eyes. I mean, seriously, isn't it obvious.

"We need a new plan to break them up," I grunted.

Teej's giving me a weird look, but he shrugs.

"Well, I can go after Gretchen."

No way. T.J.'s gone out with half of our grade at least once and he's broken more hearts than I care to name. Surprisingly. Anyways, the last thing I want is for him to break Gretch's heart.

"No way, T.J.," I snap.

T.J. shrugs, thinking.

"Well, you could try seducing Vince," He mutters.

Why is it always me and Vince? I mean, seriously? Gretchen better appreciate not having her heart broken. I guess I have no choice but to agree. I hate not having a choice.

"This better work, Teej," I murmur.

T.J. nods, craftily rubbing his hands together. Oh, great, he's got a plan. But when doesn't he have one?

"Oh, it will, Spin," He mutters to himself.

Poor twisted little freak. He's so annoying sometimes. Ugh, I hate it when people like Teej call me Spin. Makes it sound like they know me and accept me and all that crap. But they don't. And T.J. most definitely doesn't.

"Don't call me that!" I jeer.

He's confused. Again. Sheesh. Dumb. So dumb.

"What?"

I roll my eyes. Honestly. How dense can a person be?

"Well, Teej, what DID you just call me?"

That kind of shuts him up. But the time's passing so slowly and it's scarcely twelve-thirty and we're locked in here until two-thirty. Ugh. What to do?

"T.J., I'm bored!" I whine.

T.J.'s bored too. I mean, he's actually doing his homework.

I guess there's one thing we can do. I just don't know if I want to make out with him, though. I mean, it is twelve-thirty, so it'd have to last like two hours. And it's T.J., which is just weird in itself.

Aw, why not? I'm so mind-numbingly bored right now I'll settle for any entertainment. Even if it is kissing Detweiler. This decision probably isn't very strong or smart, but, you know, it's not like I care anyways.

I've probably done dozens of stupid things.

So, next thing I know, I'm dumping everything in my backpack and grabbing his collar and kissing him. He looks surprised enough. This is kind of fun. Eventually, I'm sitting on his lap, still making out with him, and I happen to glance at the clock and it says three-thirty. Oops.

Oh, crap, I have that meeting with the people from my parent's work today. Great. And I'm late. An hour late. I've also got all these incriminating hickeys and bruises and things. Crap. I'm screwed. Oh well. I've got to run.

Jump off T.J.'s lap, pick up my backpack. Hmm, window or door? Aw, great, T.J.'s giving me that creepy look again.

"Spinelli, where are you going?" Teej asked, dazed and breathless.

I roll my eyes.

"Home, I'm an hour late to a meeting with the my dad's friends from work. Have a nice day, Teej," I mumble, prying the window open with a crowbar and tossing him the key out.

Ugh. Stiff boring people. I'd better run. Better zip up the jacket too. Don't want the people seeing anything they shouldn't. Besides, Dad would probably go psycho again. And if he found out that it was T.J., he'd probably think I got raped or something.

I'm only gonna have about five minutes to change. Now, let's see, where'd I put that red turtleneck? Hmm. Oh well. My house, finally. Uh oh, that black car's got to be them. I'd better get a move on. Dash, dash, dash, jump, throw open door, leap up stairs, slam bedroom door, drop backpack. Clothes, change now! Okay, leather skirt is on that chair, my fishnets are on the floor, which leaves the turtleneck.

Crap, it's not in my closet or under my bed. Wait, I do have a black one, but it's not a turtleneck. Guess I'll just have to push up the collar of my jacket. Okay, now that I'm changed, that just leaves make-up. Okay, red lipstick, black eye shadow, mascara, and I'm done. Oh, right, better take my hair down, because it's really messy. Done.

Okay, time to greet the little weirdoes. Uh oh, they're already in here. No, Mom and Dad are introducing me!

"And that's our daughter, Ashley," Mom finishes.

I wave nervously.

"Pookie, meet Donald Bristone, his son John and his wife Irene, and their kids, Sydney, Paris, Rome, and Montreal. Nah, just kidding. It's just Sydney, Paris, and Milan. Milan's sick though. And the guy with them is Paris' boyfriend, Rome," Dad explains.

I smile half-heartedly, gathering that the one with brown hair is Sydney, and the blonde is Paris. Hmm, wonder if Milan's a redhead. Sheesh, though. What is up with the city-themed children?

So, we wind up eating, and they talk about business, blah, blah, blah. That stupid Don guy asks if I'm hot with my jacket on, which prompts my mother to ask for me to unzip it. I believe this is to make sure that I'm wearing a shirt. Loong story. And so I'm forced to unzip it, and naturally, she folds the collar down. Which helps my dad see those hickeys I was trying to hide. And, next thing I know, Dad starts yelling and I know he's gonna ask how or who, so I'm skedaddlin' it outside.

Sydney's sitting outside, and I move to sit next to her, wincing. She smirks at the sight of the hickeys.

"Yeah, I know. Ugh, I've got to get out of here. Dad's going to start asking questions," I mutter, almost to myself.

I get up, and she follows.

"So, how'd that happen?"

I smirk, looking at her, sighing.

"Long story or short story?" I ask, curiously.

She shrugs.

"Well, there's this guy who's kind of my rival, and he's been my rival for a long time. His best friend is dating mine and we both want them to break up. So, I got into a fight with him at lunch on purpose, which isn't actually too surprising, because we average about two a day, and our teacher stuck us in detention for the rest of the day. I was really bored after discussing how to break them up, so I decided to just make out with him for two hours. However, I accidentally made out with him for a third hour and that's why I was kind of late," I explained briefly.

Her eyes widened, and then narrowed.

"You have a love-hate thing going with him, then?"

I shook my head. How many times do I have to say that I don't like him like that? Heck, I don't even like him.

"No."

Syd frowns.

"Do you love him?"

She's kind of naïve.

"I used to. I kinda liked him between fourth grade and the summer of seventh grade. We used to be really close friends, but that all fell apart," I sighed.

Ugh. I hadn't thought about any of that for around three years. Why was I being so emotional about it? It's prolly 'cause I made out with him. I knew I shouldn't have done that. Oh well. Now, why on Earth am I at the playground?

Oh, crap. There's T.J., sitting up on top of it. I really ought to turn around before he sees me. But I'm turning around waay too late, because he sees me and hollers at me.

"Hey! Spinelli!"

I wince and turn around, and Sydney smirks, confused.

"Hey, I thought your name was Ashley!"

I shrug.

"I don't like that name much. As a matter of fact I hate it," I hiss softly.

Teej motions for me to come up. I guess I kind of have to. I haven't climbed on Old Rusty for a long time, now that I think about it.

"The plan starts on Monday," T.J. replies.

Duh. Honestly. I'm nodding and he's looking at my neck, which is not good, because no one should be looking there. I ought to buy some cover-up for that.

"Did I..." Teej begins.

I'm rolling my eyes again.

"Gee, ya think, Einstein?" I snap.

T.J. frowns and looks down at his hands, which is not a good thing because it means he's nervous. And if he's nervous, well, it's definitely bad.

"So, uh, we should talk," He's stuttering.

Great. He's stuttering AND stating the obvious. Isn't he supposed to be the cool guy? It definitely doesn't sound like he's got ice in his veins. And I have a bad feeling about what he's talking about. A really bad one.

"Teej, we're talking right now," I roll my eyes.

I'm not helping matters, but then again, I never claimed to be altruistic. He's getting even more nervous. Sheesh.

"Look, Spinelli, about the making-out thing..." Teej trails off.

Oh brother. This is not good. I mean, I knew he was going to talk about it sometime, but, why, oh, why did it have to be NOW? He looks really hopeful. Uh oh, is he thinking we're gonna have another "moment"? 'Cause the first one grossed me out enough without this adding to it.

My head's telling me to punch him and my fist's agreeing, but I can't. It'd be bad for the plan. He's being really weird though. I've got to say something.

"Yeah, Teej, about that...I was really bored, and heck, makin' out beats the crap outta doin' homework," I reply.

T.J. looks kind of...Well, it's not an emotion I've really ever seen. I think he's kinda disappointed. Like the time he was starin' at me before. Ugh.

No, no, no! I know what this emotion is. It kinda looks like a puppy after you kick it. Repeatedly. In the groin area.

Here I am, ranting about puppies. I SHOULD be high-tailing it out of here! Okay, yeah, leaving now! Or maybe I'm better off here... I mean, Dad's gonna be in a homicidal mood anyways. But am I really better off here, with T.J. and a girl I've known for five seconds?

Here it is then.

- Loren ;

Review if you like it. Which I really hope you do.


	11. Boxers Rebel

So, I don't own Recess or anything pertaining to it.

Hmm... This chapter has a lot of Social Studies references, which is odd, mind you, as I am taking no Social Studies classes... This chapter's stupid, but it's important to the plot. Really important.

Anyways, uh, review, and etc. Yeah. Love you guys.

Someone's pushing the hair out of my face. Man, I could've sworn that I told my mom to stop stalking me and coming in my room without asking. Oh well, I'll just have to tell her again. Ugh, the sun's so bright. Wait, I'm looking directly up at it! I'm definitely not in my room!

Whoa. I sat up waaay too fast. Hang on, that, over there, is T.J. And my head was in his lap. Creepy! And he was touching my hair and now he's looking at me. This is so strange. But, I suppose that falling off the jungle gym so wasn't the way to go.

As if I wasn't already sore enough. I mean, I fell asleep on a jungle gym, for crying out loud and then fell off said jungle gym! Ugh, I really need to get to school. But first, to shake the rocks out of my hair. Much better.

This day is really gonna suck.

And, of course, with me being the psychic that I am, it did.

First of all, I was late for school because I had to pick up a jacket to try and cover up the hickeys, and then Dad tore into me like the Spanish Inquisition for about five hours, and I didn't get to change or shower. So, I naturally got a mound of homework. And T.J. approaching me at lunch SO did not help things.

"Spinelli, we need to talk," T.J. said urgently.

And it gets really annoying to have all of your friends staring at you like you're a lunatic. And T.J.'s pretty annoying himself. Ugh. But I have to get up anyways.

"I'll be right back, guys, okay? He's only askin' me a Social Studies question. You know, the Boxer Rebellion?" I explained, lying through my teeth.

Of course, we walked over to a secluded corner and he began talking.

"Look, Spin, you remember that school dance? Well, it's in a week, and I was thinking that you should make a move on Vince then," T.J. explained quickly.

Great. Well, at least I don't have to do it today. But there are still a lot of unexplained issues afoot. I'm about to ask him about this when Ashley A. walks by, sneering at me a little more than usual. I turn to T.J., questioning him.

"She wants me back," He mutters.

And of course, I'm wondering why in the Sam hill someone would even want him in the first place, let alone want him back. However, he interrupts my thoughts once again. Sheesh, can't a girl get a private thought in without an idiot talking over her concentration?

"Look, meet me at the movies tonight, around seven. We'll hash out the dance issues. I'll even pay. By the way, which movie do you even want to see?" Teej says quickly and confidently.

What made him think I'd even agree? Stuck-up self-righteous...

"Surprise me," I mutter before turning around and going back to lunch.

Oh, joy.

Then something occurs to me.

Did I just land myself a date?

With T.J. Detweiler?

I think I did.

Aw, crap. This bites. I've got a date with my rival.

- Loren ;

Was it good? Or did it suck crap?


	12. Just Like Britney

Remember in, oh, I think two chapters ago, when Spinelli was talking about the jacket thing? Well, that story is kind of explained now. It's an odd story, and I mean, I can't say that stuff like what happened to Spinelli have happened to me in High School. Speaking of which, their high school is mega weird. So, if I don't mention it later on, they go to that Washington High place mentioned in the kickball episode...

Oh, and in later chapters, I go over her boyfriends and friends in more detail, and he reputation and that sorta stuff. Her reputation is kinda the same...

I kinda want reviews. I mean, one for like every two chapters is not ideal... I want more... Man, yeah, I'm greedy. But this fic is practically a chronicl-sag-no, wait... It's practically a novel... It's like 79 pages long, beginning to end...

Anyway, REVIEW. Por favor? S'il vous plait? PLEEEEEASSSE? pouts With a million cherries on top?

Oh, and by the way, Spinelli says jackass again in this chapter... She'd probably say worse stuff, but I don't believe in those things...

And I don't own Recess, or I'd have animated their prom already... :)

Ashley A. also uses less likes in this chapter, as she uses less likes than the first ones. It's because she's angry, and threatening... And when she's serious... But she's not serious until the prom, which is a while.

Now, remember when I was talking about why my mom opened up my jacket? Well, actually, it's a funny story. You see, I was, oh, I dunno, a freshman, actually, and that morning had been a little tight, so I'd kind of forgotten to put on a shirt and just zipped up my jacket and, y'know, gone to school like that. I remember that something big was going on that day.

Oh, yeah, that was the climax of all of my problems. That day happened to be April Fools, so naturally, I'd set pranks up all over the school just waiting for T.J. to come and become entrapped in them. He'd also set them up for me. We injured a lot of innocent, well, actually, not-so-innocent bystanders with our silly games, but not really ourselves.

And then we got into a huge fight. I can still remember the bruises. We both had 'em. I dunno why, but something inside of both of us just snapped. But, you know, my boyfriend had just cheated on me with some slutty person...Now, was it an Ashley or a Megan? They're both nasty groups of people. Really. Always harassing me and pissing me off...

Anyways, so, sometime in the fight, I took off my jacket because I was getting sweaty and well, no one fights well with a jacket on. Of course, T.J. didn't notice that I was wearing only a black bra for a top, he just punched me instead. But let me tell you, it does not look good to your teachers and fellow students when you're a freshman, wearing only a bra and a short skirt and rolling on top of and hitting someone in the middle of a hallway. Especially when you're sweating.

It kind of makes them think that you're easy, a problem that keeps reoccurring with my asinine boyfriends. And it makes the teachers think that you're having sex, which isn't good.

I believe the charges were violation of dress code, public displays of affection, public displays of violence, lewd behavior, serious charges of vandalism, disrespect for teachers, and destructive behavior.

They had to pull us off each other. Literally. It wasn't pretty. Especially since we were both bloodied and sweaty and bruised. However, T.J. happened to notice that I wasn't wearing a shirt in the middle of it, so they managed to use this distraction to their advantage. Ugh.

My parents, T.J.'s parents, the school nurse, the gym teachers, all my teachers, Principal Prickly, Ms. Finster, AND my friends all gave me enormous lectures about it. I still shudder to think about it. We kinda learned our lesson.

I walked out of the school that day with brochures on sexually transmitted diseases, teen pregnancy, abstinence, and safe sex, along with a packet of detentions and suspensions, some band-aids, and birth-control pills. I wonder what they sent T.J. home with...

Anyways, tonight, at the movies, I forgot to put on a shirt...Again. 'Course, this time, it didn't bother me, mainly because I didn't realize it, but also because I wasn't planning on wrestling him in the hall this time. And I was also wearing a jacket.

Of course, well, it was an open invitation, I suppose.

So I walked into the movie theater and Teej was waiting for me there kind of impatiently. Okay, so he was pacing. Whatever. He sees me there, grabs my arm and practically yanks me into this theater. We're over thirty minutes early, because the first movie hasn't even ended yet, but we slip down in the front and start talking.

"Okay, Spinelli, I asked you here for a reason, actually. You see, you're going to be my date for the dance..." T.J. began.

He was interrupted, however, by my screaming some terrible words against going with him. He ignored this and continued.

"Anyways, Spin, we're going to pretend like we're getting along so they'll never suspect. And part of that is us doing things like this," He said, trying to explain his actions.

So we'll have to do this more often? Crap!

I have THE worst luck. Seriously.

"How often will we have to go out, T.J.?" I questioned, frustrated.

T.J. shrugged. Really helpful, that one. Jerk.

"Oh, sorry, that would be too helpful, wouldn't it, Teej?" I snapped, annoyed.

I guess the movie was gonna start or something 'cause everyone started leaving. So, I got up and went to sit in a decent row. And, naturally, T.J. followed. Unfortunately for me, anyways. My stomach was rumbling since I hadn't had dinner, which resulted in me sending T.J. off to get me some food.

And that's when my actual troubles started. Well, actually they started after Teej came back with the snack crap. But that is so not the point. You see, he'd just come in with the jumbo popcorn when I saw, well, actually, we both saw, something that made our stomachs turn.

Now, you have to understand a few things here. I have, contrary to popular belief, had a love life. Yeah, weird, huh? Let's see, I've never really had anything serious, but I have gone out with a lot of people. Uh, hang on... Johnny V., Lawson, Randall (well, I was being blackmailed into that, and well, halfway through the date, I couldn't stand it anymore because he was being the disgusting little perverted worm that everyone's always known he is, and so I punched him and destroyed the blackmail crap, and, well, his dignity), Francis (yeah, Hustler Kid...Weird, right?), Butch, Bob (yes, as in the King), and, well, a bunch of other scumbags. Of course, I haven't actually been too serious or actually in love with any of them.

Anyhow, I have this knack for attracting boyfriends who cheat on me and, well, are scumbags. Of course, I've lucked out, y'know, with the fact that I've never been in love with any of them, but I dump them right after I find out anyways.

What did T.J. and I happen to see, you ask? Nothing really, just Johnny V. and Ashley A together. Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention a few things. Like the fact that Johnny V. was my last boyfriend. And the fact that Ashley A. was T.J.'s last girlfriend. And then the fact that both of us caught them together, making out. Believe me, there was a blow out that day. T.J. was shouting, I was screaming obscenities, Ashley A. was sobbing, Johnny V. was begging for mercy...You get the drill.

That was the first time that T.J. and I teamed up. We both beat up Johnny V. That was kind of fun, actually. But, then again, anything that involves violence is okay with me. Well, most of the time, anyways...

I looked at T.J., and he felt the same as me about this situation. I bit my lip and nodded. There is no way I wanted either of those people to see me there. And so, about a second later, he pounced on me and we started making out. And, of course, when I was lying flat on the seats, with TJ on top of me, they decided to notice us.

Well, rather, Ashley A. did.

"Like T.J.? Like what like are like you like doing like here?" She asked, in a confused voice.

Johnny V. grinned that toothless grin (I'd knocked out his two front teeth when we'd broken up... Well, actually, I knocked out one and T.J. knocked out the other. What? He was a jerk!) and elbowed her.

"He's scoring with some chick, Ashley," Johnny whispered rather stupidly.

Her face scrunched up. Of course, I was too busy to even care to notice them. Okay, so I was trying to avoid noticing them. Same difference. But then something terrible happened.

Ashley A. tapped on T.J.'s shoulder and he foolishly looked up. Then she looked over down at me, puzzled.

"Like, is like that like you, like Spin-ugly?" Ashley A. shrilled insistently.

I sighed, pushing myself up. Can she utter a single sentence without the word like in it?

"Hello to you to, Ashley," I muttered unhappily.

She looked me over, a nasty sneer crossing her face.

"You're like looking like completely like ugly like today," Ashley A. muttered lowly.

T.J., who was still hovering over me turned to glare at her. Ugh, I'm so sick of her calling me ugly. That's so old.

"Oh, Ashley, you're just jealous that I've found someone better than you," T.J. explained loudly.

And then he pulled me into another kiss. Ashley huffed and went up a few rows. However, Johnny V. was still there.

Meanwhile, T.J. had just noticed that I was wearing a jacket and so he unzipped it. Then he realized, and I suppose, I realized, that I wasn't wearing a shirt. He decided stupidly to try his luck, and started fooling around with my bra. And then I realized what the little... was doing. So I pushed him off me and when I turned my head, standing, there was Johnny V., staring at my chest.

"Spinelli? What're you doing? Especially with Detweiler? I thought you... I thought you hated him!" Johnny asked, outraged.

I flipped him off and he gasped, but by then, nasty little Teej had stood up. Little slimeball. Ugh. I was so mad that I punched him harder than I ever have before, so hard that my hand was numb. Grinding my heeled boot into his stomach, I kicked him away from me, disgusted at what the jerk had tried to do to me. I spit on him, attempting to leave.

But no, of course Ashley A. saw me and came over to make it worse. When she noticed that I wasn't wearing a shirt, I think that her little brain had a mini-stroke. Then a grin overtook her face.

"Well, then, Spinelli, I like so didn't know that you were like so slutty. What like were you like doing, trying to like get yourself laid? I mean, T.J. is like pretty good, but, like, I guess that you like already know that, don't you?" Ashley sneered, using much less likes than she usually did.

I was way beyond outraged. I mean, it's not enough that she thinks I'm slutty, not like I really care, because I mean, I know what this looks like. Remember, I've been down this road before and it wasn't fun. And then the getting myself laid comment. Ugh. She makes it sound like I'm desperate to get T.J. to sleep with me, but I hate him, so that's not true. And then there's the fact that just thinking of that is nasty. And then finding out that she's slept with T.J., not something I ever wanted to know... I mean, they're practically the two people that I hate MOST in the world. And then she insinuated that I'd already slept with him.

Which wouldn't happen because I have standards, unlike some people! Like Ashley for example.

I didn't punch her then, amazingly. I just stood there, glaring down at her, hands on my hips, radiating dignity.

"I mean, you're like so hopeful, aren't you? But he totally rejected you, like you know?" She continues mockingly.

This doesn't really bother me so much. It's nothing she hasn't said before. But she's an Ashley. She'll tell the whole school that I went on a date to the movies with T.J., was making out with him, and that I was shirtless throughout. Bye-bye, reputation...

"Well, Ashley, you need to get a few things straightened out. First of all, it takes one slut to know another, and I'm absolutely positive that we all know that you're a slut. And, no thanks, but I don't want to get laid. I really didn't need to know about you and T.J., I mean, can you think of anything more disgusting? I haven't slept with him either, and I definitely don't want to... He's a disgusting perverted jackass! And finally, I rejected HIM! Oh, yeah, you're really not one to be calling ME slutty. I mean, you're the one who's slept with just about every guy in our grade..." I finished loudly.

She gasped, trying to think of a comeback.

"At least I'm not a hooker, Spinelli," Ashley A snapped venomously.

I looked at her. Let's see, mini-skirt, check, low-cut top, check, boob job, check, make-up, check, heels, check. Hmm, who's the prostitute now?

"Oh, really? I'm the hooker? Because you're the one who seems to give it all away for money or social standing," I retorted.

It's surprising that I'M the one with a bad reputation. She glares at me.

"Explain to me like why else you'd like be making out with like T.J.? I mean, like you two like hate each other. Unless of course, you're like actually in love with him? I like wasn't. And I like went out with him for like a year. Of course, like I had him like totally whipped. And I like find it like totally hard that like he could move on from _this_ for **that**!" Ashley snapped, gesturing towards herself and myself.

I suddenly felt sorry for T.J.

"You know, I'm actually kinda surprised that he dated a twit like you. I mean, who would put up with such a dreadful personality? Oh, no, wait; I know why he put up with ya! Because you're easy!" I quipped, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Your personality is like worse than mine!" She replied angrily.

She looked me over.

"And you're like way easier than I am!" She rejoined.

I rolled my eyes, not thinking.

"Hey, Ashley, haven't ya slept with every jock in the school?"

At this, she decided to slap me, which, I might add, happened to backfire, because then I had a perfect excuse to beat the crap out of her. Anyways, she hit me, but it didn't really hurt.

I gave her a punch right in the kisser, which I followed up by a right hook. The right hook connected with her nose in a sickening smack and blood started spurting from it like crazy. She looked like a freak now, with puffy lips, a swollen nose, and blood streaming down her face.

"I'll like tell everyone like about your little like escapade with like T.J., like Slut-nelli! And like I've still like got a like copy of like that tape!" She threatened, voice garbled.

In a single, fluid movement, however, I soon had her arms twisted behind her back with one arm, and her head in a headlock with the other.

"Look, Armbruister, I can seriously beat you up to within an inch of your life. I'll beat the living crap out of you if you do any of that, okay? Now, we're both just going to forget what happened tonight. You will destroy the tape and tell no one nothin', got it? I will not thrash you to within an inch of your life and you'll use the broken nose as an excuse to get that new nose you've always been wantin', okay?" I ordered.

Ashley nodded, terrified, and I dropped her to the ground.

"Good. Bye, Ashley!" I said cheerily, walking out of the theater.

I want to get out so bad I almost forget to zip-up my jacket.

Almost, but not quite.

- Loren ;

Review if you like it... And I really hope you do.


	13. Hear No Evil

Okay, this chapter is really ironic... And it's odd. Can't say it's ever happened to me. But, anyways, I don't own Recess.

Anyhow, after I finish posting these chapters, and trust me, I'm tempted to dump 'em all down in one day, and maybe if I do some stuff in Passage, I might do another Recess fic, you see? Anyways (man, I use that word a lot, don't I?), I was wondering what you'd think about that, and so, I have a little sneak-peek excerpt from it in the following mini-section in the italics, and then the actual chapter of this story. So, feel free to tell me what you think about it...

"_**Never** call me Ashley," She hissed._

_T.J. shot her a look._

"_Why not?" He cried mockingly._

_Her eyes became narrow slits, her tone menacing._

"_Because I don't want to have the same name as your **slut** of a wife, that's why," Spinelli scorned._

Okay, now that that excerpt's over with, then on with this tale of intrigue...

See, when I got home, I thought I was home free. I mean, I was home, wasn't I? But I was wrong.

Very wrong.

T.J. followed me home. I was trying to get to sleep when I hear this stupid pinging noise on my window. And then my window shatters. Somehow my parents, being the CIA agents that they are, don't happen to notice this. I'm snapped out of my semi-slumber by a large rock hitting me square in the forehead.

I, being extremely worn out and wanting to sleep, chuck the rock back out my broken window, where it lands on the head of a certain idiot who's named after a certain president with a large, satisfying cry of pain. Still, my parents don't notice this.

I suppose that a rock in the forehead, pinging sounds, shower of glass, and a howl of pain are enough to make me give up on sleep, and so I get out of bed, barely avoiding the glass. And, as I gaze out of my busted-up window, I see... T.J., climbing on my roof!

I scream, naturally, but he doesn't fall off like I hoped he would, and my parents STILL don't notice. As a matter of fact, no one notices. I could be being raped here, and no one would notice, or try and help. Bums, the lot of 'em.

Somehow, Teej makes it up to my window and jumps inside, shaking my room and the floor the way things do in houses as old as mine. Somehow, my parents still don't notice. What, are they wearing earplugs or something? Seriously.

He, however, lands on some glass, to my approval, and he cries out in pain once more. And guess what? My parents are still clueless and/or asleep. Idiots!

"Hi."

I kick him in the chest, well; I was aiming for the chest, but shot a little low. Okay, I wasn't aiming for the chest. He's screeching again and no one pays attention. Ugh. This is so annoying!

"T.J., what on Earth are you doing in MY room? I didn't say you could be in my room. I don't want you here, period!" I screeched.

And still no one notices. Is everyone in the neighborhood deaf or something? However, by now, I had figured out that we could probably go through nuclear holocaust, and no one would notice, we'd just all be dead.

T.J. shushes me and I feel the urge to shush him in the way that only a swift kick to the nuts can. Okay, yeah, yeah, that would only make him yowl. Whatever.

"Look, I'm sorry. Ashley brings out the worst in me." He explains, as if this is an actual explanation.

It is true though. That girl brings out the worst in everyone. She only serves to amplify rage.

"That's no excuse," I snap, arms crossed over my chest protectively.

I swear, I can feel him undressing me with his eyes. Ick. Pig. Why can't Dad wake up now? T.J., however, is nodding, an admission that he is wrong. Which is rather new, to tell the truth.

"I know. Look, I just jumped to conclusions and got a little crazy and I know that I shouldn't have done that, but I did, and I'm really sorry that I've been such a jackass to you since, well, forever," Teej apologizes.

So, this is what it feels like to be speechless. Wow. Am I hallucinating or is this actually happening? I think it is. Oh. This is strange.

I mean, reconciliation on his side? Wow. I never thought that it could happen. Wow. Did he call himself a jackass? I think he did. Wow. I mean, it's just so surreal. It's so...Wow.

Is wow the only word I can say anymore? There must be another word to express shock, being stunned, and astonishment. Right? Yeah.

Whoa. Holy Crap. Darn, those are the only ones I can think of. Oh well.

He apologized. I seriously can't believe this. It's mind-bending, it really is. Really.

Being lost in my own thoughts here, I'm very alarmed when I focus on my surroundings and notice that he's two inches away from my face. It's rather funny that I can make-out with him for hours on end, but when he actually tries to kiss me, I'm all panicky.

I guess I'm so freaked because he actually wants to kiss me and he's become a person to me, not just an object, or whatever.

Unfortunately, this is serving to remind me of those two past moments and I'm pretty sure that this is gonna be a third. Ew.

And next thing I know, he's kissing me. Which is just, whoa, totally out of left field. Well, not totally, but whatever. Wait, why am I not doing anything to stop this? Can't let him think something wrong, right?

So, naturally, I push him out of my door, forgetting momentarily that it leads directly to the stairs. And he's rolling and rolling and rolling. It's like watching a dryer or a washer in a Laundromat. I hear an ouch or an ow about every second, loud and clear, and still, my parents don't notice.

It's then that I notice that it's raining really bad outside. You know, thunder, lightning, pouring rain, gale force wind, the works. And are my parents awake? No. Still not awake! Argh!

And now something is in my nose. I'm gonna sneeze. Great.

"Achoo!"

My sneeze isn't even that loud, yet somehow it manages, after all this time, to wake up the folks...

"Ashley! What was that?" Mom hollers.

I bound down the stairs. If she sees T.J., she'll make him stay. And Joey's crashed on the couch, and we don't have a guest room. Anyways, but there's Mom, Dad right behind her. She's wearing this hideous hot pink robe and leopard print sneakers. And Dad, well, his robe is a little TOO revealing. Ugh.

I smile nervously, sort of standing in front of T.J.'s prone body. Of course, they can both see him, but they're pretending they can't. Really sweet of them.

"I sneezed."

They nodded in an oh duh sort of manner.

"How is it that I can sneeze and you wake up, but cries of pain, screams, pouring rain, thunder, lightning, glass breaking, rocks hitting my window, a person landing in our house, and someone rolling down the stairs you're all impervious to?" I questioned, somewhat annoyed.

Mom fixes me with a glare and walks behind me.

"Honey, is that T.J.?" She asks, voice intentionally full of worry and concern.

I shrugged.

"And your point is?" I retort.

Mom scowls and it looks as if she is about to say something when Dad interrupts her.

"What was that Detweiler boy doing in the house, Ashley?" He says in a threatening tone.

I flash back to my conversation with Ashley A. and flinch at the thought.

"He broke into my room," I mutter, polishing my nails on my black t-shirt.

Dad's eyes widen a lot and I roll my eyes. He always assumes the worst. If it were up to him, I wouldn't have EVER had a boyfriend. At least he understands that Teej's my enemy. Mom still has not grasped that fact. Not that she grasps a lot of facts, but, c'mon, it's been like six years.

"Dad, chill out, okay? Nothing happened." I say, glancing over at Mom, who's smacking him across the face in an insane attempt to wake him up.

Somehow, the pain does the trick and he's up in a flash, eyes automatically turning to me. Just what I need, another one of those moments. Been there, done that, didn't like the trip. Mom shoots me a glare.

"Ashley, how could you let this happen to him?" Mom gaped, holding his face like an aunt would.

"He had it coming, Mom," I snap, turning away from all of them.

Mom's about to say something but T.J. waves her off. Wonder what he's going to say.

"No, Mrs. S, she's right. I broke in, I deserved it," He mutters, holding his lumpy head.

Wow. I didn't know that our stairs were so pointy. Wait, he did just say that I was right, didn't he? Weird. That's the second... Or is it the third? Time he's surprised me tonight... Odd.

He turns to go home, but of course, things just aren't that easy anymore, now are they? Of course not. So Mom, being the genius that she is, forces T.J. to stay. Of course, she forgets that my brother's crashed on the couch and we have no guest room, as I mentioned previously. And her bed has no room, so that leaves my bed. Joy.

Which, you know, I kind of need to sleep in. But, of course, poor little T.J. can't go home in such a terrible condition. So he's going to stay here. Do I have to fend for myself? This has got to be one of the only times when I don't want to fend for myself. Seriously.

Well, I guess I can only say one thing. This is going to be one VERY long night.

- Loren ;

Review, please? Share your thoughts. Because I like thoughts. I like them so much that I think FAR too much, you see? Anyways, I like it when people share them with me because then I can discuss them and I like to talk about things, except no one listens to me ever, but that's beyond the point... So listen and review!


	14. Crashing into Hurdles Along My Way

Ugh, I am so annoyed with the entire lack of reviews I've been getting here. It's rather annoying. And this chapter is like 6 pages long. Seriously, it's awesome. Really. And the big finale approaches... It's sad, really.

Don't own Recess. I do own Jack Fitzgerald and Vivian van Gogh, though. And Rage, I guess...

Don't own Catcher in the Rye though. That was and will always remain J.D. Salinger's. I do own a paperback copy of it, though, that only cost 98 cents. Oh... Here's Spinelli's schedule, for the few that are actually reading this and give a crap about her schedule.

First Hour: Metalworking

Second Hour: Algebra II

Third Hour: Chemistry

Fourth Hour: Study Hall

Fifth Hour: Spanish III

Sixth Hour: Advanced Placement European History

Seventh Hour: Art

Eighth Hour: Honors English II

Don't ask me how she got into the Honors classes. I'm as puzzled as you are. I mean, yeah. It just works better for the author that way.

Actually, the beginning of this chapter reminds me of summer school... Anyways...

I swirl the colors round and round, mixing blue, red, yellow, white, and black haphazardly on the canvas together. Add some value there; take some value away from here, badda bing, badda boom, and I'm almost done. Just gotta do two more things. Hmm, now where did I put that water? Oh, there it is. Hmm. Now, a little will work fine. Just a little tip, there, yeah, that's enough water.

Perfect. Now, to throw it on the canvas. One, two, three, and GO! Almost perfect, except for one thing. Must pull my hand back and release...NOW! Pow! Okay, I think it's done. Now I've just got to sign it, set it on the drying rack, and wash the paint off my hands... And just in time too. Wait, I almost forgot to sign it. Now where did I put the brush? Ah, there we go... Spinelli. And I'm done.

But no, things for me are never that simple. Ms. van Gogh just had to come over, didn't she? Ugh.

"Spinelli, this is an exquisite piece of work. I'm in love with it. The blends of light and color... The lines and perfect mixture of geometrical and organic shapes... The symmetry and value... It's marvelous. What is it titled?" She asks, in a dreamy voice.

How am I supposed to understand any of that?

"Uh, well, I call it... Rage?" I mutter.

She smiles, nodding happily.

"I love the way you showed that rage, anger, and hatred can mask and overcome all other issues, like logic, love, trust, and friendship," Ms. van Gogh said happily.

Whoosh. Ouch. That went halfway over my head, bonking me on the way over. Uh oh, I really don't like the look Miss V's giving me.

"Why're you looking at me like that? Am I under a microscope or something?" I begin questioning.

However Ms. V stops me, pushing me out the door.

"Spinelli, dear, don't you have to get to Honors English II?" Ms. van Gogh asks, hurrying me out of the room.

How she knew I was in Honors English I do not know. I also don't know how I got in Honors English, but that's beyond the point. Glancing at my watch and running through the halls, I note that I have approximately three minutes to get to my locker, grab my notebook, my battered copy of Catcher in the Rye, and still manage to arrive on time for my class, which is approximately halfway across the school. Oh boy. I'd better hustle.

Run, spin, grab, slam, spin, run, jump, sit. One second after I'm in my seat, the bell rings.

"Nicely done, Ms. Spinelli," Mr. Fitzgerald joked.

I scowled. The Miss part is really annoying. I rolled my eyes and Mr. Fitzgerald began lecturing. Man, only he can suck the fun out of Holden Caulfield. I mean, he's an okay teacher and all, he can even be kind of fun sometimes, but, well, he's a jerk. Oh well.

When I wake up, about twenty minutes later (I've perfected catnapping in class unnoticed), there's an assignment written on the board. Some essay about Holden's fragile psyche and career choice. I can't remember. It was pretty stupid. I scramble out of this class as soon as the bell rings; it is my last hour anyways.

Now, let's see, what homework's due tomorrow? Hmm, Pages 215-217 and A-Y on Page 910 or Algebra (II...ugh). Chemistry, hmm, well, let's see... I have to make a drawing of the atomic model of five radioactive elements...Now where did I put my Periodic Table? Oh well.

I really oughtta stop having these long inner monologues. It would give me way more time to pay attention to my surroundings. And that would be way better, because then I wouldn't run into T.J. so much, like I did just now.

He offers a hand to help me up, as he is already standing, but I push it away and scramble to my feet. I don't need any help from anyone. Now that I'm on my feet, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's that life just isn't that easy, especially for me. So, naturally, Teej grabs my arm. Of course, some of his smarmy jock friends are nearby, so when I elbow him in the stomach, their faces are pictures of shock.

Though I don't understand why they are that way. I mean, I've been in A LOT of fights. Sometimes I just wish that they'd all leave me alone.

"Ooh, Teej, man, did you EVER strike out!" Some idiot friend of his remarks in awe.

I do not have time for this. I'm going to be late for my grounding. Joy.

"Shut up, Lawson!" T.J. snaps, angrily, running after me.

Man, we probably look like idiots. Well, he is. I have a bus to catch, so I'd better put on some speed. Okay, cleared the doors. But, alas, there goes my bus. Why do I always get the short end of the stick?

No, seriously. I mean that literally. I did get the short end of the straw. That's why I had to kiss T.J. the first time all those years ago. How many times have I kissed him since? Ugh, I've lost count. That can't be good. It's not good. Oh well, guess I'll have to walk home.

T.J. uses this precise moment to catch up with me. Lovely.

"Hey, Spinelli, wait up! We ought to talk!"

Oh brother. I just knew I shouldn't have worn these boots today. Ugh. And it's miles home. Literally. Hey, wait; don't I have track practice today? Oh yeah.

"Hey, wait, where are you going?" He asks, perplexed.

I roll my eyes, running past him and back into the school. Ah, here's the gym. Uh oh. There are only about three people in here. I'd better change fast. Let's just hope that he doesn't follow me into the girl's locker room. Better lock the door just in case.

Now, I have about three seconds to change. That leaves one for struggling with my shoes, another for changing out of my clothes, and another for changing into my gym clothes. Okay and POW!

One, two, three, and I'm DONE! Yay! I go to go outside, and, once again, run into Teej. This is really starting to piss me off. I quickly push myself off the floor, noticing disgustingly that his eyes are riveted to my legs.

"T.J., stop staring at me, you perv!" I snap, pushing past him, running out the gym door.

My coach spots me, shooting me a scowl and blowing his whistle.

"Spinelli!" He shouts, "You should've been here ten minutes ago! Where were you?"

I shrug, stepping in line with the other girls, who are all scowling at me. In case you haven't figured out, Mr. Fitzgerald is my coach and the other girls hate me because I'm better than all of them at everything. No, seriously, I've set records. Well, for the girls anyways... I mean, how on Earth am I supposed to beat Vince? I mean, honestly!

Mr. Fitzgerald glares at me.

"Okay, Spinelli, we're going to run the one hundred yards now. We're aiming for a time somewhat around the boy's record, set by a Mr. LaSalle that I'm sure that you know, right, Ms. Spinelli?" Mr. Fitzgerald goads.

"Oh, I know him all right," I mutter violently under my breath.

The other girls giggle. Everyone saw me kiss him, didn't they? Ugh, trust my friends to not show up the one time that they should've... Uh oh, there's T.J. I ought to get started then, right. Mr. Fitzgerald blows the whistle and I take off, speeding across the football field. Got... To... Run... Now...

Phew. Now I'm there. I mean... Here! How long was that? Hmm...That's strange, everyone's still running. Man, they must be slow. Okay, Coach recorded my time. Uh oh, T.J.'s coming at me. From behind.

I'd better do another wind sprint. And fast. Hmm, so this is what football players feel like. Wait, what am I saying? I play football. Well, I think it's safe to say that I outran all the girls and T.J. Uh oh, that would be Coach's whistle. He's going to yell at me.

"Everyone, come on over!"

We did. Coach turns to me first.

"Spinelli, nice work. You beat LaSalle's record for the dash," Coach says, beaming with pride.

The other girls gape, and I am among them.

"Fitz, you serious? I beat _Vince_? But he does wind sprints in his sleep..." I mutter, unbelieving.

Fitzgerald nods, showing me my time. Wow.

"Why'd you run so fast anyways?" He starts to ask, but then I look over his shoulder and see T.J. coming at me.

I gulp, pointing at the panting boy.

"That would be why, Fitzy," I mutter.

Giggles surround me, and Coach turns around, puzzled and scowling at T.J.

"Whoa, you're afraid of T.J. Detweiler?"

"If T.J. Detweiler was running after ME, I'd be running towards him, not away from him."

"She must be out of her mind."

I turn around and scowl at them.

"I'm right here, you know. And if you were me, you'd be running away from him too," I hiss, frustrated.

They give me a look like I'm the nutcase. I turn to Coach Fitzgerald, gulping.

"Hey, Fitzy, can we do something else, please? I don't care what it is, hurdles, the mile, anything!" I panic, looking back at T.J. warily.

Fitzgerald gives me a strange look, but shrugs, flipping to his clipboard, nodding to me.

"Okay, everyone who's doing hurdles for the match three days from now, which is, I might add, the final one, please report to me. The rest of you girls, well, take a water break. We're doing shot-put next," Fitzgerald barks at me.

Oh, good, I'm doing hurdles. About half of the girls leave and go back into the Gym. Fitz paces in front of us.

"Ladies, the trick to hurdles is not to injure yourself and to try and jump every single hurdle in your path while running quick enough so that you maintain your momentum and do not run into the next hurdle, because if you do, it can almost be a sort of domino effect. Now, absolute focus and concentration is necessary for this sport, and even a slight distraction can make the difference between pain and winning," Coach explains.

We get ready and shoot off at the whistle. I'm doing pretty well, actually, I've cleared about half of them, when Teej comes and runs beside me. How am I supposed to jump over crap when he's next to me?

"Hey! Wait up!" He pants.

Oh boy. I'm still trying to focus and keep my eyes on center. I'm still ahead of everyone, but I just knocked into one.

"We need to talk!" He blurts.

Another one down. He's really lighting my short fuse. So, naturally, I look back, very stupidly at him.

"No, we don't, idiot!"

And then I run into a hurdle full on, and tumble, head-over-heels, unto the ground. Ouch. I think I killed everything in me. Well, I have to get back up and beat all those annoying witches. Run, run, charge, leap!

There we go. Made another one. Uh oh, here's another. And another.

"Look, Spinelli, how many times can I apologize before you forgive me?" Teej bemoans.

This causes me to run into not one, but two strategically placed hurdles. Ouch!

Oh, great, now I have to get up. And fast. Run, run, run. I can multitask and talk to him while doing hurdles. I just can't look at him. Eh, I'm still beating everyone else anyways.

"Teej, there are some things I can never forgive you for. It's never gonna be like it was before. And anyways, I'm still pissed at you for yesterday. You were a jerk to me... Several times, actually." I mutter, concentrating on my jumping, and barely being able to manage a landing as he replies.

"Spinelli, you're the one who pushed me down the stairs! Every rib I have is bruised thanks to you!" He retorts.

I try and focus ahead and retort at the same time.

"Well, I wouldn't have had to push you down the stairs if you hadn't broken my window, climbed my roof, and snuck into my bedroom!" I shout, barely clearing another hurdle.

T.J. rolls his eyes and I struggle to keep my eyes forward. I've been doing this forever.

"I just wanted to talk to you, to explain myself, Spin!" T.J. hollers.

This seriously pisses me off. Especially since I just jumped over a hurdle and crashed, literally, into another one.

"Well, you didn't do it well enough! You need to stop trying stuff on me, Teej! You were way out of line, and you need to understand that!" I snap, crashing into yet another hurdle.

Ouch. Okay, now I've got to do it. The finish is only a few hurdles away. I have to jump them as fast as possible, so that I won't be distracted when T.J. offers a rebuttal. That's it.

One down, well, not literally. There's the second, and I clear it! The third...

"I get that now. Honestly, Spinelli, I do. And, well, there's something I have to tell you..." T.J. begins, and I really don't think I'm going to like what he's about to say.

"Well, we've been spending a lot of time together, and it really reminds me a lot of the old days, you know, Spin? Anyways, uh, it's really serving to, well, change, I guess, the feelings I have towards you. And, well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I, well, I-" He continues until I interrupt him.

I'm kind of stunned because he's admitting something big, and this is terrifying. Seriously. I crashed into the last hurdle just as he was saying this, landing in a very painful position with my body all twisted and contorted.

"Well, Spinelli, I want... to be friends with you," Teej finishes nervously.

Oh, I am so glad he said that. Seriously. But I'm not glad that Coach is staring up at me. So I push myself up, roll over, and rise to my feet, dusting off my uniform.

"Spinelli, you choked it big time!"

I roll my eyes.

"I still beat everyone else, didn't I?"

He nods.

"True."

I gesture to T.J., who is looking at me hopefully.

"And, I had a distraction."

Fitz nods, amused. He smirks. Uh oh. I won't like this comment. I can tell.

"Yes, Ms. Spinelli. I heard your little lover's spat," He remarks, trying to be cute.

I roll my eyes again. I don't like T.J.! How many times must I say that?

"We're not lovers! Ugh, I can't even stand him!" I snap.

I turn to T.J.

"This time, Detweiler, your plan won't work."

I turn back to Mr. Fitzgerald, who seems almost amused.

"So this is the kid who you were caught wrestling shirtless last year?" He questions, smirk widening.

I will never live that down. Ooh, yay! All the other girls are running over. Marvelous.

"Is that T.J. Detweiler?"

"What is he doing here?"

"I can't believe it's him!"

I roll my eyes, glancing over at the bimbos.

"Sheesh. He's just a guy. And a pretty annoying one at that!" I growl.

Oh, T.J. Teej has the nerve. Too much nerve. So much nerve he's an idiot.

"Well, don't worry girls. She's just a little jealous is all. Ladies, I'm sorry, but I'm taken. The lovely Miss Spinelli and I are dating now!" T.J. exclaims cheerfully.

I think I'm going to either vomit or kill the little creep. I can't decide which to do.

"I am NOT dating you! So what if I'm going to that stupid dance with you because we both know why I'm doing that, and it's not because I harbor some secret passion for you, okay? You're more likely to start dating Ashley Armbruister again than me. Now stop lying to those bimbos and leave so I can finish practicing!" I snarl.

Everyone stares at me, mouths wide. Ugh.

I think I'll pole-vault next. Now, where are those sticks? Aha! Okay, this time I can concentrate.

Run, run, run... Put the stick into the ground and flip up and over. And I made it! Landed on my feet too. Oh, great, they're still staring at me.

"What are you looking at?" I hiss.

- Loren ;

So, review? S'il vous plaît? Por favor? Bitte?

If you do, I will be happy. Really happy. So, make the author feel rockin'.


	15. Bang Your Gavel, I'm Guilty!

I don't own Recess. But I do own Vivian van Gogh and Jack Fitzgerald, along with Tranquility and Nostalgia, Miss Finster's marriage, and the way people see Spinelli.

I know, already, that this week could very well be the worst one in my life, but I had no idea how bad it would be. So here I am, hustling to Art once more. Why am I always hustling somewhere?

Anyways, the art room's really crowded for some reason. And no one's painting or drawing or sculpting. Matter of fact, more than half of these kids aren't even in my art class. Wonder what they're looking at.

"Hey! Outta my way!"

I manage to push myself through to the front. They're looking at stuff I've done. Uh oh. Who did this?

And there's Miss V, that's just great. Crazy old bat. She's walking up to me, and, hugging me? Oh brother.

"Oh, Spinelli, dear, I'm so glad you could make it. So, I see you've noticed our display, then? Which work is your favorite?" Miss V rambled, pretending to be nice.

I roll my eyes. I'm not buying her crap for a second. And just then, when I thought it couldn't get worse, it did. Boy, did it.

"Well, I don't know about either one of you, but my favorite's the black and white photo. It reminds me of this huge mural a friend of mine did out of chalk in grade school. It took her about a week to do it, and she worked without ceasing. It's a shame that it washed away in the rain, really it is," A very familiar voice says.

I don't even have to turn around to know that it's T.J. Miss V smiles some more.

"Spinelli, dear, your little boyfriend here likes Nostalgia. I personally like Tranquility because of the cool tones and curvy shapes," Miss V continued obliviously.

I'm pretty pissed off now, actually. I mean, she didn't even ask me if I wanted my artwork displayed. Okay, I would've said no anyways, but still, I'm no Rembrandt. And then there's the fact that T.J.'s here. Remember that painting I did yesterday? Well, I'm feeling about ten times the rage of that one. So, before she can even say that I'm the genius behind all that crap, I'm gone as soon as she looks away.

As a matter of fact, I'm so annoyed that I've decided to just cut out right now. I could seriously use a burger...Or a winger-dinger or something. I'm briskly on my way outta this dump when, naturally, Miss Finster pops up, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me into the lunch room.

"Ugh, what is it now?"

Miss Finster rolls her magnified eyes.

"Well, Spinelli, I'd like to know why you were illegally leaving the premises for a start," Miss Finster sneers.

Sheesh. I can't even ditch properly.

"Actually, Miss Finster, about that. You see, well, there's been a family emergency. My grandmother, Agatha, kicked the bucket this morning. About five minutes ago, to be exact. Really tragic, a heart-attack, it was," I lied elaborately.

Miss Finster rolls her eyes.

"Spinelli, cut the crap," Miss Finster says bluntly.

I rolled my eyes.

"Fine. I've got to get my hair dyed blonde for the prom," I muttered sarcastically.

Miss Finster so doesn't buy that. Which is why I'm still sitting here.

"Spinelli, what's up with you and Detweiler?" She asks quickly.

Okay, this is really not a welcome conversation on my end. I'm not going to answer. As a matter of fact, I'm gonna leave. But of course, as soon as I try and get up, she pushes me back down.

"Look, Spinelli, I'm really not one who usually makes bargains, but if you answer my questions truthfully, and, trust me, I WILL know if you're lying, then I'll let you go, all right?" Finster argues.

I might as well tell her. There's not much to tell anyways. And I'll get out early too. She's practically conspiring with a felon here. Well, I'm not a felon yet. Hopefully I won't ever be. But here, you know, they treat me like I'm from the wrong side of the tracks. They've got this really annoying I'm-superior-to-you-you-little-crook attitude down. It gets pretty annoying after what, six, seven, eight years? I dunno, it's a stupid load of crap. Just like them.

No, seriously, they REALLY want to pin me for something. If something goes missing, they automatically think I stole it. I don't really steal. Except for that one thing back in the sixth grade. This town's small, and everyone's waiting for me to screw up.

It's enough to drive anyone insane, this whole juvenile delinquent aura I've got going here.

"Okay, shoot."

Mrs. Finster's eyes narrow and I'm beginning to feel like I'm being interrogated by the coppers again. That was no picnic, especially for a nine-year-old. Or for a fifteen-year-old. An experience I wish I never repeated and hope that is never again repeated.

"Okay, why are you acting so weird around the boy?"

Okay, what does she mean by weird? I've been acting weird around the guy since like, forever. Wait, that might just be me being weird, like I always am, y'know?

"How do you define _weird_, Muriel? Because, see, I think this whole conversation's weird, as is the you-being-nice-to-me-spiel, but who am I to complain?" I retort.

A scowl crosses her face, lines creasing deep wrinkles into it. She leans forward, and ugh, I can smell her breath. It smells like that liver she gave me when I had to stay over at her house. Ugh, the memory alone's gonna make me puke.

"Well, Spinelli, see, the teachers here are quite captivated by you. They seem to enjoy talking about you in the teacher's lounge. It's something I've really never quite understood about you. Sad thing is that they don't even know the half of it. Anyways, Jack happened to mention something about him being at your track practice, and distracting you a heck of a lot. I think Vivian mentioned something about him being captivated by artwork you've done, or was it that your artwork featured him in some way? I can't remember. And Randall, well, he's got lots of stories about you that can't be proven. And the Ashley A and Johnny V incidents. Something wrong with that, awful suspicious. A new nose and two missing front teeth. Has your name written all over it," Finster threatened sneakily.

Whoa. Weird. Okay, this is feeling like those stupid F.B.I. agents who go around like crazy using force or something. It's really annoying the way that they push civilians around. I mean, she's giving me that treatment, only in words.

"Okay, I don't understand why teachers have these pathetic obsessions with me, 'cause I'd really hope that they'd have something better to do with their time, like, oh, I dunno, plan lessons or grade homework? Anyways, okay, T.J.'s been kinda up in my face lately, and well, it's been really pissing me off. We've got a history, and all those crappy memories are bein' dragged up again. He's got an impeccably bad sense of timing, if you get my drift, and thus, manages to show up at the worst possible times, like when I'm doing hurdles, for example," I explain, annoyed and crossing my arms over my chest.

She gives me a weird look.

"Spinelli, why's he all up in your face? And what happened in the past that ruined that nice little thing you had going?" She asks sincerely.

That's a creepy tone. Reminds me of her newlywed days. It's so sad for Prickly that she got married to Hank. He kinda had a thing for her. Prickly. Petey. Whatever they called the little weirdo.

"We're involved in something. Not something illegal, okay, we're just trying to make it so we don't have to constantly see each other. Well, at least, I am. Stupid twerp wants to be friends. As if I'd ever be that stupid again! I mean, do I look like some dumb fourth grader again? 'Cause I'm not one! The past is the past, and I'm still annoyed about it. I hold grudges and don't let go very easily," I rant, almost forgetting about Finster for once.

She hmmms, and it strikes me that this is winding up like me having some crazy chat with a psychologist again. I see that weird lady every month, for my "anger issues". I don't say a word, and I mostly skip out of them or go have a smoke during that one. Either way, I'm not telling her anything. Well, that lady.

I guess that I can talk to Finster. I mean, she did help me outta that lame crush I had on the moronic Johnny V. Didn't manage to talk me outta going out with the sleazy slimeball, though. Meh.

"What are you doing with him? You in love with the kid or something?" Says Mrs. F bluntly.

It always comes down to that question, doesn't it? Why is it that question? Always. That friggin' question pisses me off so much. How many times must I say no? How many?

Wonder why no one believes me? Prolly 'cause I lied a lot about my parents. I swear, it's pathological. Some days I'll just lie for no reason to everyone I meet. I'm sick that way.

Ugh. I'm doing the silence thing again. I hang around guys too much. I'm having problems with my multi-tasking. As in I can't think and talk at the same time. Or walk. Ugh. I need sleep.

"No way! Why would I be? I regularly beat the crap outta the kid." I exclaim angrily.

Smoke is totally coming out of my ears. Black, black, black industrial-type smoke. Okay, well, it isn't, but whatever.

And she's giving me this "Yeah, right, I believe that like I believe in the Loch Ness Monster." Look. Amazing. It's always me, isn't it?

"Do you know if he's in love with you?"

I say the first thing that comes to mind. Something I should avoid doing.

"He'd better not be!"

She hmms again, rising to her feet.

"Keep on cruising down De Nile, Spinelli. Just keep on cruising. Time to go," She says tiredly.

She doesn't need to tell me twice. I fly outta that room as if my pants were on fire. Actually, I'm wearing shorts today. Whatever.

- Loren ;

Oh, and just in case you don't remember, in the episode where Ms. Finster babysits Spinelli, they say that her grandmother's named Agatha. And I can't remember the episode where they say that Joey's in jail... So when she refers to being questioned by the police at nine, that's what she means. And, finally, the thing about the psychologist... I can't remember which episode it's in, but I think it's in the one where Spinelli gets really pissed off and starts drawing that huge chalk mural, which I believe is called Spinelli's Masterpiece, and T.J. tries to stop her from hitting Lawson or the Ashleys or whoever made her so mad in the first place, and he says something like: "Do you want to go to that district counselor again on account of your anger issues?" And I think that they talk about the Loch Ness Monster in one episode, though I can't remember if it's the one where Lawson's Gang rules for a bit, or if it's The Experiment...


	16. Packing Blue Vinyl and Pills

Okay, so, yeah. Um, no idea what to say, other than that I don't own Recess and that you guys are awesome for reviewing.

See, I manage to avoid Teej another day. Not too easy, but I did it. Since I had a little bout with the shrink lady, I went out, had a smoke or two.

Mom and Dad smell the smoke, and well, they're kinda annoyed. About a lot of things I've done lately. Great. Just what I need on top of everything else. Ah! They're really, really, really screeching.

"Smoking can kill you, Pookie. Are you suicidal?"

"Of course not, Dipstick."

"Young lady, do not call your father a Dipstick!"

"Smoking leads to other drugs. Like the reefer, which leads to other drugs, which lead to hanging with the wrong crowd. And that puts you in trouble, Pookie!

"Okay, first of all, I never said I was smoking. Second of all, you just assumed that. Thirdly, don't you trust me at all?"

"Nope."

"Mom?"

"Don't look at me, Ashley! You're the one chillin' wit' da wrong crew."

"Okay, several things. I don't smoke pot or other drugs. I don't hang with the wrong crowd. Around here, they consider ME the wrong crowd. Don't call me Pookie, don't call me Ashley, and don't try and act "hip" because you're not! And, I can call my Dad a Dipstick if I feel like it. He's being one. A big one."

"We just want what's best for you, Ashley Dear."

"You don't know what's best for me!"

"We don't want you to be knocked up, okay? And that's what hanging with the wrong crowd results in."

"Relax, Dad. Chill out."

"Look, you have too many boyfriends. You don't know whom they've been with, and there's always a chance that something bad could happen. They're almost all scumbags, and they cheat on you. You deserve better. Get a nice guy."

"Like that nice Detweiler boy."

"Don't you dare give me The Sex Talk. I got that in Fourth Grade, courtesy of the Public School System, thanks. I only have one boyfriend at a time, and I don't even have one now, okay? I'm not some cheap slut, okay? I know they're scumbags, and I know they cheat on me, and I don't care! It's not like I've ever been in love with any of 'em. And, you know, I'm not a puddle of love or anything, so if I don't put out, they'll go elsewhere. But I don't care."

"You ought to, Young Lady."

"No, I'm not finished! I'll be safe okay? I'm not some dumb kid to you, okay? I have common sense and brains, got it? I'm prepared, so just back off!"

"No, I will not!"

I trudged up the stairs, my mom distractedly flipping through a Cosmo.

"Honey, calm down, she's on The Pill."

"She's WHAT?"

And that's my clue to leave. Ugh, I'd better run fast. Grabbing a sweater, I dial Gretch's number.

"Gretchen, you there?" I whisper frantically.

"Hi, Spinelli. How are you?" She says cheerfully.

Ugh.

"Now's not the time for small talk, Gretch. I'm fine, I guess. Anyways, my parents are freaking out and arguing really loud about me, so can I crash at your place?" I say quickly.

My parents are still arguing. I'd better ditch fast.

"Sure, Spinelli. Just pack the usual stuff. Could you change into the blue dress, by the way? That reminds me, we ought to go shopping for the dance while you're here. Okay, see you soon! Bye!" Gretchen chirps.

I only have one blue dress. It's electric blue, sleeveless, extremely short and, I swear, made of vinyl or rubber or leather or something. So, you see, it's really tight. Which kinda makes me wonder why she wants me to wear it. Hmmm... I might as well.

I've always managed to be able to pack fast. It's a talent of mine. Anyways, so I plop some clothes for tomorrow (a black t-shirt, jeans, flip-flops, and a track sweatshirt) in my backpack, along with my homework, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and some Chapstick, a blanket and a pillow. I put on the dress, throw on some sneakers, jot a note for my parents and leave it in the kitchen, and then vamoose.

- Loren ;

Her parents are kind of odd, aren't they? Anyways... Thanks, guys...


	17. Set Me Up, Set You Back

This chapter's kind of funny. You'll see why Gretchen told her to wear that dress. It's not exactly... subtle. They kind of get closer...

Anyways, I fail to possess the wealth and fortune that owning a television show such as the brilliant and visionary Recess would bring me, thus it is pretty certain that I do not own the glorious cartoon that is Recess. Also, I don't own Jimmy Neutron, lol, or Spinelli's cousin Vinny.

I should have known. That's all that I can think. I should've known.

Gretch and I bought our dresses. I dunno why I'm mentally describing this, but, hey, if I focus on this, it'll take my brain off of everything else happening. Anyways, her's is teal, sort of straight across the top, and pretty short actually. Yeah, I was surprised too. She's always been so straight-laced.

My dress? Well, it's spaghetti-strapped, kinda low-cut, red, really really bright almost fire-engine red, and long with a slit all the way up to here (can you tell it's long?). Anyways, I get there, and T.J. and Vince are sitting in her living room. Needless to say, I now know why she wanted me to wear this dress.

Anyways, her parents are out of town. Some convention or something. Vince, I can kinda understand that. Not that I want to see him, considering what I'm gonna wind up doing to him at the dance. And T.J., man, don't even get me started!

So those bozos look up, seeing me, naturally, and Vince blinks. He's trying a little too hard to not be interested. Not that I care, anyways. T.J.'s gaping, and I'm starting to get majorly uncomfortable here. Vince and Gretchen take the opportunity to leave the room at this moment, and T.J. walks up to me.

"Uh, hi, Spinelli."

I gulp. There's something really strange about this.

"You look nice."

I look down, embarrassed.

"Thanks."

And then, out of nowhere he puts his hand on my arm. And I'm letting him. It's very surreal. For once in my life, I actually wish that I were my nine-year-old self again. See, something like this wouldn't have bothered my nine-year-old self. T.J.'s really touchy-feely, as in the sense that he touches people a lot, and I've never been like that, and, for some reason, just about every embarrassing thing happened to me, of all people, in fourth grade. Anyways, so, this is really strange. For some reason, I have no idea why; I'm being reminded of Butch's hair streaked white from the terror of a kiss. That's really very funny to think of now.

Anyways, he pulls me to the couch with him. I practically wind up falling on top of him, which is just what I need right now. Seriously, does he have any concept of personal space? He's invading my bubble, you know! Ugh.

"Hey, Spinelli, remember when we beat the crap out of Johnny V?" He replies softly.

How could I forget? He'll always remember to never make out with anyone he's cheating on his girlfriend with in the alleyway outside of Kelso's again. And he'll never forget how it feels to lose your two front teeth. They really were all he wanted for Christmas.

"You kidding, Teej? How could I forget?" I exclaim, smirking.

He looks at me funny.

"You know where we're supposed to sleep?"

I shrug.

"You know where Gretchen and Vince are?"

He shrugs.

"Let's look for them. Okay, we need a flashlight, a whistle, and a pie-" T.J. starts.

I interrupt, "T.J., that's not necessary. We'll just turn on the lights and close our eyes if they're doing something we don't want to see, okay?"

Together we trek down the halls of Gretchen's house, which is kind of creepy at night. You never know what experiment might be lurking in a corner. CRASH! What was that!? I turn to look, realized that it's just T.J., having tripped over some robot or something on the floor.

"Sheesh, Spinelli, why does her house have to be like Jimmy Neutron's basement?" T.J. complains.

I shrug.

"How am I supposed to know, you bonehead? Oh, yeah, she's a scientist, duh!" I retort.

We stumble through the darkness, and T.J. trips over something, bringing me down with him hard on the floor. I swear I heard my spine snap.

"Teej, did you have to kill us?"

He shushes me and creeps forward. Okay, when did we land ourselves in an R.L. Stine book? Seriously, I'd like to know. He's pulling me up, flicking on a light, and, oh great, we're in a closet. I tried to open the door, but then I learned that it was, surprise, surprise, a locked closet. Marvelous. Good thing I brought my cousin Vinny's lucky hairclip with me. I ought to have the lock done in a second. If I could only reach it...

"T.J. Detweiler, do you think you could move?" I question, getting cramped.

T.J. nods in the dim lighting and we switch places. It takes a second or two, but the door's soon open. I peer out and see Vince and Gretchen in the room, glancing surreptitiously at the door. And it's then I realize why they stuck us in that closet. I turn to T.J., smirk forming on my face.

"Teej, they locked us in here, so we're gonna play a little joke on 'em, okay? Just follow my lead," I whisper.

T.J. shrugs, but then nods. I make kissing noises and T.J. follows. I let out a moan, and I'm pretty sure that they're pressed against the wall. T.J. laughs a little, he hears them too.

"Oh, T.J.!" I moan.

T.J. has to fight off a laugh, making more kissing sounds. Finally, when we're both sure that they're pressed up against the door, we push it open, tumbling them unto the floor. We're both cracking up, and it's a nice moment. But Gretchen ruins it by getting up and telling us that there's a bed shortage, because her house, like mine, apparently has only two and the androids are sleeping on the couch. Load of crap, if you ask me. But no one does, so I wind up in the same bed with him. 'Course, I don't want him getting all touchy-feely and grabby, so I set up a pillow barrier.

Ah, sleep, how I've missed it so.

- Loren ;

You know, come to think of it, I do rather appreciate reviews... Because the next chapter is incredibly long and one of my personal favorites. And it's got old characters and semi-new ones and all sorts of fun stuff.


	18. Bubble Pop Electric

Okay, I have to explain some things here.

Okay, the dresses Spinelli was describing (not the vinyl one) were for prom or their little end-of-school dance-y thing… So she'll be wearing the red one (and, remember, she's supposed to come unto Vince at this dance, so it kind of suits its purpose) and Gretchen'll be wearing the short-but-tasteful blue one. And as for the blue vinyl dress she has, it's kind of matte, so it's not all shiny…it's more turquoise-y and tight… and not all dominatrix-y, but she uses it when she goes to clubs and bars, which she does a lot with her other friends (because Gretchen's studying or something and she doesn't really like those kind of places because she's Gretchen and she has Vince).

And, as for the like thing… The Ashley's (more of Ashley A., though, because she's the only one who has a main role, really) do use like a lot less.

Oh, and to describe why it's not really that descriptive. Well, it's in Spinelli's POV, and at some parts it kind of sounds like she's telling the story in the past and at others it's like she's living it, which is a little confusing… She also isn't very descriptive about things because, well, it's kind of in stream-of-consciousness, and so these are mostly her direct thoughts; and I don't know about you, but when I'm thinking, it's usually not something like: "The walls are all red". Not that I usually think stuff like "I am eating", but you know, it's hard to say that you're doing something in stream-of-consciousness. Which attributes to the weirdness of this fic. Because I have weird thoughts (I think in third-person, which is REALLY weird, for example), and, so, it rubs off on Spinelli's character in this fic, which is weird considering I try to keep her in character, but that's hard, considering the time difference from fourth grade to Sophomore Year.

Sorry about not updating. I'm really bad about that sometimes. I had finals, which are a real pain.

Oh, and I do not own Recess (T.J., Spinelli, Gretchen, Mikey, Gus, Miss Finster, Randall, Upside-Down Girl, Jared, Vince, Spinelli's Great Aunt Ashley, Johnny V., Skeens, Butch, King Bob, Principal Prickly, Sue Bob Murphy, Gordie, Francis "Hustler Kid", Irwin Lawson, Kelso's, The Ashleys and The Megans for that matter), War and Peace, Atlas Shrugged, Catch-22, or East of Eden.

Well, actually, I have copies of War and Peace, Atlas Shrugged, and East of Eden at home… And I read Catch-22…

I do however own Vivian van Gogh, Jack Fitzgerald, Marian the evil librarian, Crystal, Mr. Ferris, Helaine's name, Spinelli's first boyfriend, and Miss Finster being (laughs) married.

In a random side-note before the chapter (you deserve a medal if you've read all this), this happens to be my favorite chapter.

And, now, on with the fic…

See, my ideal wake-up was not Gretchen screaming over me that she was going to be late for school, my ideal sleeping position was not with my head on T.J.'s chest, back over the pillows, and feet twisted under the blanket, and my ideal breakfast was not those crappy poptarts they put in a freezer. But things are hardly ever ideal.

Anyways, I shower, throw on my clothes, eat, brush my teeth, and leave. It's almost like the old days. Anyways, I've got that track thing today, so I've got the whole day off. I figure I'll probably just work on my metal sculpture thingy for Metal Working, maybe a painting or a sculpture in Art, and then, I guess I'll get some Spanish help. I swear, I'm two points away from an F in that class.

Sounds nice. Maybe pop in P.E. for a little workout, see if I could snag some decent food from the cafeteria. Before I know it, I'm in the Metalwork room.

I grab a blowtorch, gloves, my tools, a visor to protect my face, the sculpture I'm making, and some more metal. I think I'm going to make an urn or something. Okay, on with the gloves, the welding mask, and time to turn on the torch. Okay, let's weld those pieces together. Some more welding, let's melt it a little, okay, just the look I was goin' for. Uh oh, Mr. Ferris. I'd best get going before he yells at me. I'm not technically supposed to be here.

Okay. Art then. But when I go in the room, my artwork's still up, and so I skedaddle before Miss V can spot me. Okay, since it's not quite lunchtime, I'll just go to the Spanish room and get help. Okay, except the fact that she's giving a lecture now. Uh, well, hmm, I'll just go to the library and read a Spanish book. Crap. I lost my Spanish book.

Maybe that's why I'm doing so badly. Oh well, can't hurt to check for it in my locker. Okay, I'm at my locker, and there's nothing here. It's a mess, and now the entire thing is on the floor, but there's nothing here. Great, now I have to clean it all up.

Hmm, that took about thirty minutes out of my day, and it's still hours to lunch. I mean, I even alphabetized the books. Sheesh. Okay, yeah, the library. Gotta check and see if I, you know, can find a tutor or a Spanish book. Now I'm in the library, but it's deserted. There's not even a librarian here.

Hmm, Spanish… Let's check under S.

Okay, I've got nothing.

Hmm, maybe it's under F, for foreign language.

Nope.

Okay, how about L, for Latin-based.

Still nothing.

M for Mexico, it's got to be there.

Aha! No, wait, these say nothing about Spanish!

Okay, I give up. I'll just find a free reading book. Hmm… War and Peace sounds nice. It's got a war, it's got peace, it's got Siberia, it's got over one hundred and fifty characters. It's really long, so it'll last me until lunch. Maybe even after lunch, as I have nothing to do.

Hmm, okay, let's find it. Aha! There it is! Wonder why it's on that sort of pedestal-y thing? Oh well, gotta snag it anyways. Man, this is hard to read. Oh, wait; it's in Russian, isn't it?

Hmm, I've seen this before somewhere. Yeah, that word means, hmm, what was it? Oh, wait, Great Aunt Ashley taught me some of this when I was little, something she picked up during her training for the Iditarod. Now that one's the, and that's and, and that's a, and that one's war, and that one's hello, and that's uh, friend, right? Okay, hey, I think I'm getting the hang of this a little.

I've just about finished the first page when the librarian barges in and has a cow about me reading it. She practically tears Tolstoy from my hands, drops him back on the pedestal and scolds me. Okay, she's a buzzkill.

Hmm, wonder if they've got East of Eden. Saw the movie. It was pretty good. The book ought to be good too. Yeah, I found it!

Of course, the librarian sees and seizes it.

"That book is inappropriate reading material. It was supposed to be burned. You are not allowed to read it because of the sexual content. That book is rated R, and you are not eighteen and do not have parental consent!" She fusses.

Hmm, maybe they've got Catch-22 in here somewhere?

Aha! Found it. Wow, this is pretty good. Of course, I'm laughing already, and so the librarian comes over to kill me, which is pretty stupid, because we're the only people in here. She yanks it out of my hands, scolding me again.

Okay, there has to be something else. Do we have Atlas Shrugged? Aha! There it is, on that big glass-covered bookcase. Gotcha! I've barely cracked the book open when the librarian seizes it from me.

"No stealing from the teacher's bookshelf! Too controversial. I'm sorry, but I warned you thrice. I'm afraid I'll have to kick you out," She snaps.

A librarian, not allowing me to read?

"You're a librarian, you're supposed to promote literacy. Now whether I want to read in Russian, read books with "sexual content", which is a stupid thing to be concerned about anyways, as more than half of the kids in the school have already had sex, so why should reading about it or watching it be illegal, laugh in an empty library, at a book, or read a controversial book from the teacher's self, I should be able to do it. We don't live in China, you know? You have gone out of your way to prevent me from reading!" I shout.

She then attempts to bodily throw me out, but I go out on my own, not before nicking, however, all four books. Of course, as I'm walking along in the hall, Randall spots me, and uses his portable scanner to check and see if I've checked out the books, which, of course, I haven't and so he snatches them and, well, I'd run, but hey, this delays time, right?

Of course, Finster comes, but she just shakes her head and walks away.

"Randall, she's the star of the girl's track team. We can't do anything to her because the finals are today!" Miss Finster hisses.

Randall scowls at me and I flip him off, running before he alerts Mrs. Finster.

Okay, now, what else can I do? Ah, the gym! I can lift some weights or run a lap or two.

I'm at the gym and just picking up a weight when it is lifted out of my hands.

"Miss Spinelli, sorry, no lifting. You've got to keep your strength up," Mr. Fitzgerald says from above.

Darn. I get up, scowling at him.

"Hey! That's no fair! I have to do SOMETHING! I couldn't work on my metal craft, I couldn't get Spanish help, I can't read, I got kicked out of the library, and now you're telling me I can't lift weights! Lunch isn't for hours, and I have nothing to do!" I screech at him.

Fitzy's laughing at me. It's starting to get really annoying. I mean, yeah, he's the youngest teacher here, we know he has a sense of humor; don't rub it in our faces! Sheesh!

"How'd you get kicked out of the library?" Fitz mutters, smirking.

I look down, rolling my eyes.

"Well, I tried to read War and Peace in Russian, East of Eden, Catch-22, and Atlas Shrugged. I suppose War and Peace was rare. She said East of Eden was "smutty" or something. I was laughing out loud at Catch-22, and I "stole" Atlas Shrugged from the Teacher's Bookcase," I scowl.

Fitzy smirks.

"So, how far'd you get?"

I shrug.

"A couple pages, at best," I sigh.

He nods.

"So, Fitzy, what am I supposed to do, huh? Lunch is in a long time, and I'm sick of waiting to do something!" I snap.

Fitzy shrugs.

"Well, Spinelli, you could change into your gym clothes. I suppose that a lap or two wouldn't be so bad. I'll race you."

Eh, it's not half-bad, and I'm bored out of my mind.

"Okay, Coach."

He nods seriously.

"Okay, Spinelli, meet me at the track. I'm sure you know where it is," He leaves.

How could I not? No, seriously…

Anyways, to the girl's locker rooms! Hey, is that Helaine? Helaine was Upside-Down Girl, you know, back in grade school. She's cool. We're friends now. She's on the track team too. That gives me an idea.

"Hey, Helaine!" I shout.

Helaine turns.

"Oh, hey, Spinelli! How are you?" She replies congenially.

I smile at her.

"I'm fine. Actually, I'm going to race Fitzy down at the track. I've just gotta get changed. You wanna come with me?" I ask.

Helaine smiles.

"Sure, Spinelli, I'm there!"

I nod, smiling back.

"Okay, just give me a sec to change," I request.

I throw on the track uniform (short black shorts and a white t-shirt with the school's name and mascot on it), put my hair up in a ponytail, and then lace up my sneakers.

"I'm sorry I missed practice on Monday. I heard about T.J. chasing you. I would've paid to see that," She smirks.

"What do you mean?" I say sharply.

I can feel her rolling her eyes as I step out into her aisle.

"Look, you like him. This whole hating-him-thing you've got going is just a cover. You're not fooling anyone with it, either!" Helaine retorts.

Ugh. I do not like T.J. I am not in love with T.J.! How many times do I have to say that before someone believes it? This is so frustrating.

"Says the girl who had the world's BIGGEST crush on him in freshmen year. When you heard about me fighting him on April Fools, you practically blew a gasket! And, sheesh, how many times must I say that I DON'T like him, that I'm NOT in love with him, and that I HATE him, before you all finally get the hint?!" I reply angrily.

Helaine rolls her eyes.

"Oh, come on, you were in LOVE with him in elementary!"

Oh, sure, throw that in my face. Wait, how'd she know about that? I didn't even hang out with her back then. Oh, well.

"Yeah, so? I had a crush on Johnny V. in elementary too!" I hiss back.

Helaine shoots me a look.

"Spinelli, in case you've forgotten, Johnny V. was your most recent boyfriend," Helaine pointed out.

Gee, how could I forget? Remember, I knocked out one of his front teeth because I caught him cheating on me with Ashley A. That's not something I can exactly forget so easily.

"Yeah, so? I've had a lot of boyfriends," I mutter, annoyed.

Helaine rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, and they've all cheated on you."

That's not true.

"No, actually, 'Laine, that isn't true. Now, let me see here… First there was that new guy, who was a dweeb, and he was really stupid, so I cheated on him, and I got away with it for a while, and then we just kind of never saw each other anymore and it turned out that he had moved away again or something. And, uh, then there was Butch, who I broke up with because, well, I'm not going there. That was really bad. Hmm, and after that's Skeens, who cheated on me with Sue Bob Murphy, go figure. Hmm, and then there was Bob, right? He was too self-involved, and then, you know, he cheated on me with that new girl, Crystal, right? And, okay, then there was Francis, who didn't cheat on me, and that one lasted a while because he was somewhat nice, but you know, he was even more closed off than I was. I broke up with Lawson because he was a jerk and he didn't respect me, but he was also cheating on me with, oh, who was it? I think it was a Megan, but it could've been Ashley Quinlin… And after that, there was Gordie, that one lasted a while too… Hmm, why did I break up with him? Oh, yeah, he got bored with me, and I got bored with him, so I ditched him. And that brings me to Johnny V., who I caught in the alley of Kelso's cheating on me with Ashley A." I reply matter-of-factly, counting them off on my fingers.

Helaine nods, surrendering.

"Man, you've had a lot of scumbags for boyfriends, haven't you?" She replies, in awe.

I nod. Sad, eh? Let's see, five out of eight boyfriends have cheated on me. That's intriguing.

"Yeah. It's kind of sad, actually. Now, come on, Fitz is probably having a cow on the field," I say, after a while, hustling.

Of course, once again, I don't look where I'm going, and I run into someone. It's a seriously annoying habit. I swear, if I run into someone once more, I'm gonna turn into Helga from Hey Arnold. Anyways, this time, I'm fortunate enough that the man I run into isn't T.J., but someone else.

Now, I'm not a girl who gushes over how cute guys are, I mean, you can use the scene at practice with T.J. for an example, but, this guy, well, he's hot. I don't know why, but he looks somewhat familiar and I can't place the familiarity. Oh well.

He's pretty nice too, because he helps me to my feet before I can protest. And his hand lingers on my arm longer than necessary. Somewhere behind me, Helaine's smirking. No, but seriously, this guy, he's really unnerving. He's staring straight into my eyes and not blinking. And now, he's leaning down and kissing my hand, something that is still very strange by my standards.

Maybe it'll help if I describe this guy. Okay, he's got light brown hair and green eyes and he's about six foot. He's dressed pretty normally; wearing some battered sneakers, a red t-shirt, and some jeans. I dunno why he looks so familiar though.

"Hello. I'm new here, and I was wondering if a woman as beautiful as you would even give a guy like me the time of day, let alone show me around," He flatters.

Now see, I don't usually blush, because well, my facial features don't support it, but, hey, I'm doing it. No one's ever been so flirty with me. I mean, people come onto me, but they don't do it smoothly. Or, at least as smooth as this guy does.

"Well, I could show you around. I've got the day off anyways," I reply, smiling.

He smiles back at me, looking at me quizzically.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" He asks smoothly.

I hold out a hand, which he grabs. Helaine's chuckling behind me.

"Spinelli."

His eyes widen and he drops my hand.

"Spinelli? Seriously? You've grown up so much!" He exclaims.

Who is this guy? He looks at me, frantic.

"Don't you recognize me, Spinelli? It's Jared!" He cries.

Holy crap. THAT's Jared? The Perfect Kid from fourth grade. Wow. Figures, I guess. I pull him into a hug.

"Wow. Jared! You look… great! It's great to see you again!" I reply sincerely.

He smiles, pulling back.

"So, how is everyone? Gus, Mikey, Gretchen, Vince, T.J.?" He chirps.

Helaine snickers from behind me. I turn around to face her.

"Shut it, Helaine," I warn.

She rolls her eyes, gazing straight at Jared.

"Well, Gretchen's okay, even though she's dating Vince, who's also okay. Gus is fine, Mikey too, he's lost a lot of weight actually. He's a great actor, though; he's in my drama class. Hmm, T.J., I don't know about him though. I mean, Spinelli did push him down a flight of stairs on Sunday…" She trails off.

Jared shoots me a curious look.

"Look, Jared, it's a very long story, and we don't have the time. We've got to get you to class. Did you know that there's a dance tomorrow?" I say, changing the subject.

He shrugs, showing me his schedule.

Hmm, Latin 3.0, AP Calculus, AP Philosophy, P.E., AP Physics, Photography, Art, Honors English II… Hmm, wonder why he's not in AP English? Oh well. So, we've got P.E., Art, and English together, cool. I gaze at my watch.

"Well, you should be in P.E., but it's cancelled today because of the track meet, so I guess you're with me for now. I'll show you where they are, okay? Now, Helaine, could you run down to the track, well, maybe not run, and tell Coach that I'm gonna be late?" I order.

Helaine rushes off towards the track, giggling, and I walk down the hallway with Jared.

"Okay, all the AP classes are in the same hallway, which we'll reach in a second. The senior classes are on the right side and the junior classes are on the left. The math classes are first, followed by the science classes, and then the social studies classes, followed by the English classes."

We're here. I gesture towards his classrooms.

"AP Calculus."

We walk a little further.

"AP Physics."

A little further.

"AP Philosophy."

I grab him by the shirt and keep walking. Okay, turn left, then right, then left, aha! Foreign languages. There's Latin in that hallway.

"Latin 3.0."

We then go all the way across the school.

"Art is here. I've got that one too. There's Photography," I gesture.

He smiles and nods. I'm tired. I'll show him the English room later.

"I'll show you the English room later, okay?" I request raggedly.

Jared nods good-naturedly.

"Now, I've got to race my coach, and English teacher. Do you wanna come, or do you wanna wait in the cafeteria, because lunch is in a few minutes?" I offer.

He shakes his head, grabbing my hand.

"Okay, then. Race it is," I mutter.

I walk, and soon we're at the track. Helaine rests on the bleachers, smirking up at me, and Coach, well, Coach looks almost… disappointed? No, that can't be right. I must be hallucinating. Or imagining things. Yeah, that's it.

Nothing good ever happens when someone looks disappointed around me.

"Oh, finally decided to show up, have you, Spinelli? Who's the beau?" Fitz jeers.

I roll my eyes, turning to Jared.

"Wait for me here, okay? This won't take long," I mutter violently.

Fitzy's eyes widen.

"A little cocky, aren't we, Miss Spinelli?" He retorts.

I ignore him, stretching.

"You're one to talk, Fitz," I reply in irritation.

I then walk over to the track, done stretching, and get into position.

"You're on, Spinelli."

Helaine rises to her feet.

"On your mark, get set, and GO!"

We both shoot off, racing. All I am in this moment is the speed. I'm a blur. I can't see him and I don't care.

All I can see is the finish.

In a flash, I'm done. I screech to a halt, and my surroundings become shapes once more. Did I beat Fitz?

"Hmm, Jared, could you tell who won?" Helaine asks, biting her lip.

"Nope. It looked like they finished at the same time," He replies, shaking his head.

I stare over at Fitzy, both of us panting and he gives me a thumbs-up.

"Nice… work… Spinelli… You'll… smoke… 'em…" He puffs.

We both gasp for air, and I dive into the grass, trying to put my muscles at ease. As I gaze up at the blue sky, getting my wind back, I realize that this day's going to be hard.

- Loren ;

Kudos to anyone who gets why the last name of Ferris is funny for a metal-craft teacher. And, in case you're wondering… I wrote this chapter before I was finished with East of Eden, which was before I knew that it wasn't really smutty at all…lol… It's a great book though…One of my favorites…

Oh, and let's see…

_First Name Ashley_, that's where Spinelli's Great Aunt Ashley is mentioned.

_Here Comes Mr. Perfect_ is where Jared is from.

_Huster's Apprentice_ is the one where Hustler Kid says his name is Francis.

_Nobody Doesn't Like T.J._ is the one with Gordie in it (Trust me, it's no coincidence that Spinelli went out with the only guy who doesn't like T.J. for a long time. She also went out with Lawson… And Skeens… Maybe she's got a bad guy complex)…

_The Substitute_ is the episode where Spinelli says that metal craft is one of her passions (Along with Wrestling…So she makes wrestling candlesticks out of metal…lol)

_Dance Lessons_ is the episode with the Megans, who are just like the Ashleys, and so I figured that they went to Fifth Street (y'know, the school that Prickly's Big Brother ran where everyone was a clone of the people at Third Street?), and so all the people from Fifth Street now go to high school with them…

Oh, and in case you're interested, which you're prolly not, Spinelli's friends are Helaine, Ramona (Swinger Girl), (Megan) Regalli (Remember, her double?), and other people who I don't feel like naming…

By the way, thank you to everyone who reviewed.

I **really** appreciate you guys taking the time out of your busy days to review this li'l ole fic…

So I'm gonna give ya'll a little shout-out...

Because you all rock!

And here's a nifty little list of all you great people:

The Next Political Dynasty/TNPD

Kami no Hikari

SilverRainbow223

Yankee Doodle Blonde

xxxBlue Fire Princessxxx

Rosemary the Rubix Cube

Clintronic Waldrup

Dixie Darlin

Spinelli Woods, Esquire

Rushikayu13

recess fan :)

stacey

thesolitary-dragon

mischeif-maker

pissartist

Ashley Z.

Awesome Ashley

and

KimNamhee!

You guys are awesome! Love ya!

Review if you feel like it!

Au revoir!

Bet you're glad I'm done, right? Of course, if you read all this, you definitely deserve a plaque… ;)


	19. Jack and a Flask

This chapter is kind of short, but it's pretty important, and it kind of makes me nervous, so I'm not gonna say much about it.

I don't own Recess or East of Eden.

"Cheers! To the team that won the championship!"

My teammates and I clinked the sodas together. More than half of them were already smashed, somehow. Fitz smirks at me, holding up his cup for another toast.

"Cheers, to the star of our team, Spinelli!"

The cups chink together unpleasantly as most of my team hates me. We did well. Really good, actually. Suddenly, it's all too much, and I've got to get out of this place. I walk and walk until finally, I'm in some other room. By the look of all the books, I'm in a library of some sort. Hmm, wonder if they've got any of the books I was trying to read today? Aha! East of Eden!

I settle in an old armchair, reading. A few moments, or perhaps hours, later, someone else enters. I glance up, noting that it's Fitzy.

"Oh, hi, Fitzy," I mutter, returning to my reading.

He sits down in the chair next to me.

"Please, Miss Spinelli, I'm not your teacher anymore."

I roll my eyes.

"Well, if you're not my teacher, you'd drop the Miss," I retort.

He sticks out a hand.

"Call me Jack."

I shake it, feeling somewhat apprehensive.

"Okay."

I return to my reading.

"So, you like it?"

I nod, getting a little sick of this conversation.

"Thought you would."

This is so pointless. I'm never going to get anything read.

"Don't you have a girlfriend or something to go home to?" I snap, annoyed.

To my surprise, Fi-I mean, Jack, laughs.

"Nope," He says, a wide smile stretched across his face.

Why's he smiling?

"You're pathetic, you know that, right?" I say, not truly meaning it.

He nods, smiling dopily still.

"Are you high?" I interrogate bluntly.

He shakes his head no, smile dropping away. I finally roll my eyes, marking the page number in my head. Twenty-three. Okay. I set it down, turning to face him.

"So, why are you here?" I ask, still not understanding.

He shrugs, smiling sadly.

"I don't know. I guess… No papers to grade. No assignments to create. No lessons to plan. Just a sheer lack of anything to do," He replies, looking down.

He seems so lonely. This is so sad to watch. Poor guy. I put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. He smiles, attempting to put up a brave front, an action I know all too well, and squeezes my hand.

"Thanks," He mutters gratefully.

I nod, smiling a little. I have to look away from him soon. This is just too weird.

"You're uh, welcome, I guess," I mumble back.

I bite my lip, wondering if I should ask him this question or not.

However, my big fat mouth opens, and the question pops out.

"Are you lonely?" I blurt.

He gives me a long, hard look, and I'm almost afraid of this. But then he lets out a low, self-deprecating laugh and smiles a wry smile at me.

"Terribly." He remarks.

I know the feeling.

What happens next happened so fast that I literally didn't know what hit me. He leaned over to glance at the book, and then, well, he kissed me.

Of course, it takes me a long time to realize that he just kissed me, and even longer to realize that I'm kissing him back. And suddenly, next thing I know, I'm on his lap, panting and staring at him wide-eyed, just like he's staring at me, with his hand on my knee and the other in my hair. And me, well, I'm framing his face.

And then it hits me.

I just kissed my English teacher.

And I think I might've liked it.

My first instinct is to scream, but I can't do that, I feel bad for the poor guy. So, trying to maintain the fragile state of calm I'm in, I slowly get up, walking out of the room. I glance back at him, turning away quickly, my hand on the door.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, leaving and slamming the door behind me.

I try and walk as calmly as possible out of the hallway and into the main room. My face is flushed, and my lips are red, my hair messy. They must all know. I have to get out of this house. I stop the first person I know, fortunately Helaine, and beg her to leave.

Luckily for me, she is still sober, as I am in no condition to drive, and I couldn't walk if I tried.

She nods, a smirk crossing her face.

"Okay, there's a party at T.J. Detweiler's house. We can go there," Helaine replies seriously, grinning.

I'm not paying attention. I'm merely focusing on keeping it all together.

"Sure, sure, yeah, whatever… Let's go!" I snap, impatient.

Helaine smirks, shrugging, and we hop in her car, driving to the next stop on my tour of misery.

- Loren ;

Poor Spinelli. Now she has even more problems.

Anyways, this is a little reminder of a lesson I learned by watching Dawson's Creek. That lesson is to not kiss your teacher(s).

Anyways, where was I? Sorry about not updating… My internet's all wonky and right now I've got a mound of homework, so bye!


	20. Nostalgic Places With a Twist of Depress...

This chapter is REALLY Spinelli/T.J. It's like the most shippy chapter so far… Sorry I didn't update… But where does the time go?

Oh, and just for the record, Helaine did say that they were going to T.J.'s party, but Spinelli was too out of it to notice. Also, his parents happen to be out of town. And pretend that their house is bigger than it is in the cartoon, 'mmmkay?

Oh, don't own Recess. I don't even have Recess anymore. sobs Que tristeza, no?

Anyways, hope you like it… If you want to review, knock yourself out… And if you want to flame me, take a number and wait in an orderly line… Anyways, here!

The house is packed and trashed. I'm assuming that the kid's parents are outta town by the way it's trashed. Clothes, trophies, jerseys, plastic cups, a keg, and tons of passed-out people litter the front yard. I grimace, stepping over a totally wasted guy and walking in the house.

Loud rock music blasts from the speakers, conversation buzzes, and people nurse plastic cups of beer. A guy walks in the already crowded room, surrounded by an entourage. A guy walks up to the one in the middle, the crowd parting for him. He gives him a high-five.

"Hey, Teej, man, killer party!"

T.J.'s here? Just what I need. I have to get out of here. Now. I scramble past the entourage and out the back door, letting out a scream I've kept inside me since the first party. Then I see it.

The old tree house. That place has some really good memories attached to it. So, I scale it, sitting on a small chair inside. I sigh, inhaling this ancient air, wishing that things could be so simple again. But they can't. And they aren't.

And, next thing I know, someone else is climbing into this old thing. Remembering what happened the last time someone did this, my eyes shoot open. Surprisingly, the person is T.J., but I don't care. I'm beyond that now.

"Hey," I mumble gruffly, pulling the silver flask from my black combat boot with a little difficulty.

T.J. stoops a little, and sits in the chair next to me, his eyes lingering a little too long on my bare legs, which are crossed and resting on top of the table. I wore this almost obscenely short red dress tonight for the party. His eyes move quizzically to the flask.

"Oh, this? Nicked it earlier. Want some?" I say nonchalantly, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip.

I stole it from Fi- I can't say his name. Wonder why he had one. Oh, well.

This drink nearly burns a hole down my throat, but that's okay. I've had my share of practice with drinking. This is Jack Daniels. T.J. shrugs, and I hand him the flask. He takes a sip, and nearly spits it out.

"Man, Spinelli, this is strong. What is it?" He sputters.

I smirk, taking it back and throwing back a long swig of the strong whiskey.

"Jack Daniels. God knows I could use it," I mumble, knocking back another swill of the stuff.

Maybe the alcohol's loosening him up, or maybe the tree house is reminding him of the past. Either way, he snatches the container from my hands. He then shoots me a look that looks, I dunno, a little intense to tell the truth.

"Why, Spinelli, what happened?" He asks, sounding, am I right here, concerned?

Man, he is channeling his elementary self. Hey, so am I. I can't remember the last time someone's cared that much about me. That's sad. Okay, now I need some more of that. I yank the flagon from his hands, not wanting to talk.

"I don't want to talk about it!" I snap, slurping down another gulp.

T.J. shrugs, putting an arm around me. He grabs the thermos and tosses back a sip, sputtering a little.

"Come on, Spinelli. It'll make you feel better," He persuades.

I'm getting pretty drunk anyways. I might as well. I look at him, gulping.

"Okay, well, I was at the track party, right? And I got sick of everyone, so I went into the library. And, well, Fitzy and I got to talking and, well, he kissed me!" I say, seizing the carafe back, and downing a huge guzzle from it.

And somehow, for some reason I can't grasp, I'm crying now. Sobs are coming out of me, and now T.J.'s hugging me, and whispering that it'll all be okay. And it hurts to think that this is probably just about the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me, and it's coming from someone who hates me.

But I kissed my teacher. I kissed him as much as he kissed me. Oh, I'm horrible. I continue sobbing loudly because I really can't do anything other than that at the moment.

"What did you say to him? Was he coming unto you?" T.J. bursts, sounding protective.

The sad thing is that he wasn't really coming unto me. I break the hug, sniffling a little.

"Well, we were talking about a book, and then I was getting kinda pissed, so I asked him if he had someone to go home to. And he said no, and I asked him why he was here and he said that he didn't know, and I felt really awful for him, and so I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, and he covered my hand and squeezed it too. And then I asked him if he was lonely, and he said terribly, and then… And then, seconds later, we were… Making out!" I explain, tears starting all over again.

T.J. embraces me, a frown on his face.

"Has he ever shown any feelings beyond the student-teacher relationship towards you?" T.J. asks cautiously, as if there's something he knows that I don't that'll upset me to know.

I shrug, because I can't much think of anything.

"Well, I can't think of anything, T.J. I mean, sure, he was lonely, but he calls me Miss Spinelli all the time, laughs at me a lot, and he's really sarcastic to me, and he compliments me sometimes, and he offered to race me… Wait, there is one thing. I raced him down at the track before the championship, but I was late, and I brought Helaine and this new guy with me, and, I dunno, he looked sorta disappointed. Oh, crap, he likes me, doesn't he, Teej?" I ask, almost in tears again.

Ugh, I've got to stop being so pathetic. I need another drink. A long one. I take one, gazing up at T.J., who's frowning and doesn't look happy.

"Spinelli, maybe you led him on a little. I mean, while it's true that he's at least attracted to you, he definitely likes you over other students, so it is very possible that he could lov-have a thing for you or something. Now, a man calling a woman by her last name, or vice-versa, is usually considered flirting, though it could be argued that his usage of your last name is because you go by it, or the student-teacher thing. The laughing at you and sarcasm could just be because of your awful luck, or it could be because of who he is as a person. I mean, you did ask him if he had a girlfriend, and if he was lonely. That could sound like you were trying to pick him up," T.J. speculates.

Oh no. He thought I was trying to hit on him. Oh no! I led him on! I brought all this on myself! I'm horrible. I can't believe I did that. I'm sobbing again, and this time I grab the flask, chugging the contents. I throw it behind me, throat still burning, hiccupping.

"Go get a bottle from the house, Teej. I want you to be as drunk as I am, if not more!" I slur.

T.J. shrugs, and I can tell just by looking that the party's almost over. Guests flee out of the doors, some picking up stuff, some helping fallen comrades to cars, and then, suddenly, they're all gone. T.J. returns, carrying a bottle of vodka.

"Come on, drink some, T.J. Get nice and drunk here with me," I mumble.

T.J. opens up the bottle and drinks a fair amount. I wrestle it from his grasp to drink some more.

"You reminded of the old days?" T.J. asks drunkenly, grabbing the bottle back.

I can only nod, as I'm getting more wasted by the minute. I'm definitely gonna regret this tomorrow. Oh, screw it.

"Look, Spinelli, I'm sorry about what happened to you," T.J. apologizes.

He's not the one that ought to be apologizing. Oh well.

"You don't have to apologize. It's not your fault, Teej. I wrought this on myself by being stupid and naïve. Ugh. I'm such a dumbass. I should've noticed. Man, he probably thinks I'm this forward, slutty sexpot who hits on her teachers!" I mutter.

Oh, man, I sound hysterical. Great.

"Ugh. The school board should use our taxes to pay for prostitutes for all the sex-starved teachers out there. That way they wouldn't hit on me!" I rant.

T.J. puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay," He reassures.

I take another sip of the drink, T.J. doing the same afterwards. I think we're both pretty smashed, because the bottle's almost empty. The hand I've forgotten is on my shoulder slides down my arm and his face is suddenly really close to mine.

But, strangely, I find myself not caring whatsoever. I must be really drunk, but I kiss him.

And his kisses me back. And this feeling… It's strangely nice, actually.

We keep kissing.

- Loren ;

Love ya'll. Man, I ought to update this story more…


	21. The Morning After the Meltdown in the Tr...

Fun chapter, this one…

Didn't T.J.'s treehouse have bunkbeds so all his friends could sleep over? frowns Well, if it doesn't, then it does in my story.

I don't own Spinelli, T.J., the Treehouse, Flo, or Bob…

I open my eyes, sunlight flooding my vision. The bright light hurts my eyes and then the full weight of a gigantic migraine hits me. I groan, trying to get up, but my already-hurting head hits the top of something, and another thing stands in my way. This thing is a huge lump of something… Something warm, something alive.

I let out a shriek, and the thing turns to face me. The thing is, is, T.J.? Uh oh. I glance around, realizing dully that I'm on a bunk bed in the tree house. The bottom bunk, actually. I glance down, wondering what happened.

I was terrifically drunk, and probably still am at least a little bit. I'm majorly hungover. It's not even funny. I could've done anything last night, after what happened…

I shove T.J. awake, wincing at the jar to my senses. He wakes up, looking a little bit green around the gills. He looks at me for a moment, then blinks and rubs his eyes.

"Ahh!"

As he shrieks, he falls off the bed, dragging me with him.

"Auugh! Oof!"

I wind up directly on top of him, and he reaches over to grab something nearby. I flip off of him, landing next to him.

"Teej, did we?" I ask nervously.

T.J. shrugs, gesturing to the package.

"I honestly don't remember. But if we did, we were safe," He says, holding up an opened condom packet.

I then realize that I'm not wearing my shoes or a bra, which T.J. finds halfway under the bed, handing me it.

"I think this is yours," He groans, holding his head.

I nod, scowling at him. He shoots me a glare.

Oh, crap. I didn't call Mom and Dad last night. They're gonna flip out. I mean, they knew that I was goin' to the track party, but they won't like this. I didn't come home last night. They're going to yell at me when I get back. They must be worried, right?

Ugh. There's that dance today. I have to go hungover! Great. The dance is gonna suck. Seriously.

I find my boots on the floor, shoving them on my feet and lacing them up. T.J.'s looking at me funny.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" I hiss venomously.

He backs off a little.

"Well, Spinelli, your dress is on backwards," He points out.

Glancing down at my own dress, I realize that this is true. I notice the tag on the front of his shirt.

"Your shirt's inside-out AND backwards," I retort.

He looks down, verifying my statement. He looks at me kinda nervously.

"Look, Spinelli, if we did do something, and something resulted from it, then you know I'd support you, right?" T.J. asks nervously.

I nod. He means that if we did screw, and I got pregnant from it, he'd be there. A nice offer, really. But I don't have to worry about it.

"Relax, Teej, I'm on The Pill. Now could you get me an aspirin?" I reply calmly.

He gets up, climbing out of the tree house. I scramble to my feet, putting the bra on with some difficulty in minutes. I'm about to ditch when I hear T.J. coming back. He looks better, handing me some aspirin and water. I devour the pill and water, jumping down from the tree house, to my dismay, with T.J. following.

"Spinelli, wait up! I'll walk you home!" He proclaims, grabbing my arm, pulling me to a stop.

Oh well. Might as well have some company. My parents won't yell at me so much if there's someone with me. He can help lie too. I shrug and he follows. We walk in silence down the street. I can see my house now. I gulp. Here goes.

T.J. grabs my hand, an action that really surprises me and scares me at the same time. But I don't shy away from his grip, something that surprises the both of us. I knock on the door.

My frantic parents open it, Mom elbowing Dad.

"See, Bob, I told you it was just a late night, but you didn't listen!" Mom scolds.

However, when Dad sees T.J., he sees red. So, in a second, T.J.'s ripped from my grip and thrown against the wall, my dad gripping his shirt by the collar. Mom lets out a little scream. While I'm taken aback somewhat by my father's rash actions, I can't say it doesn't amuse me to watch this.

"What did you do to my daughter, you little twerp? Why is she home so late? What did you do to her?" Dad screeches.

Oh, man, he's gonna kill T.J. T.J.'s gonna be dead. Dead, dead, dead. I gotta save him from Dad's wrath. And so, being strong too, I yank Dad off Teej.

"Dad, man, chill out!" I holler.

He shoots me a look.

"That boy. He… He… He…"

He can't even articulate a sentence. I place my hands on my hips.

"He what, Dad?" I snap.

I roll my eyes at his stuttering.

"He…"

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.

"What Dad, do you think that he had sex with me?" I said bluntly.

Mom's eyes widened, as did Dad's. At the moment, they repulse me more than anything.

"I can't believe you'd think so low of me!" I snap.

Dad shakes his head, while Mom looks terrified. T.J. stares on in awe.

"It's not you we think low of, Pookie dear, it's him," Dad utters shakily.

This only serves to enrage me more.

"Why do you think low of him? What has he done? Do you think of him as some time of a man slut or something? And don't call me that!" I scream, rounding on Dad.

Dad swallows a little bit nervously and Mom shakes in the corner. T.J. stares at me, wonder and amazement flickering across his face.

"W-well, honey, uh, we thought you hated him. And you two d-do get into lots of fights," Dad stuttered.

Anger radiates from my every pore.

"Why does it matter if I hate him or if I don't? Why do you care? You've never cared before! But I'm okay with that. You just chose a really crappy time to start! And anyways, so what if I get in fights with him, that's no reason for you to start either! Now, whether or not I slept with this idiot really isn't any of your business, and why would I anyways? If you excuse me, I'd like some food and a shower because I happen to have a dance today, so I'm gonna get ready for that!" I roar.

Mom quivers, Dad scowls, thinking of something to say and T.J. gapes. I go into the kitchen, making myself some lunch. I can still hear them.

"Look, Mr. And Mrs. Spinelli, I'm sorry that she got here so late. It's just, well, I had a party at my house after the track party, and Spinelli came, and she insisted on helping me clean up, and so then, she fell asleep at my house and that was only a few hours ago and I couldn't wake her. Sorry."

T.J.'s stumbling over the words. Dad's angry and Mom's suspicious.

"T.J., darling, that doesn't really sound like our Ashley."

"Yeah, she doesn't help out much. Or like you, actually."

"Uh, isn't that a little mean to say about your own daughter?"

"Hey! You heard her, boy! She just yelled at me!"

"Bob, honey, she didn't technically say that she didn't like T.J. She said, and I quote: "Why does it matter if I hate him or if I don't?". Of course, it's obvious that she's got a thing for him, dear."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Spinelli does not have a thing for me!"

"Oh really? Then why'd she sleep with you?"

"How do you even know if she slept with me? Besides, she's had eight boyfriends. If she slept with anyone, it's probably one of them."

"Ah. You'll be number nine, T.J., dear."

"Somehow, I don't think so."

"Oh, come on, she slept with you, didn't she?"

"No, she didn't."

"Oh yeah, like we buy that!"

"Bob, shh. Don't scare him off, he could be Ashley's true love."

"True love? What kind of B.S. is that, Flo?"

"Look, I don't know why you think I'm going to be dating her, but I ought to go anyways. I've got to get ready for that dance too."

"Let me guess, you'll be stopping by later on to pick Ashley up, right, dear?"

"Yeah."

"See, you're her next boyfriend already."

"No, I'm not!"

"Riight. She's crazy about you, T.J., honey."

"Mrs. S, I really don't think she'd appreciate you saying that."

"Probably not, but it's true, isn't it?"

"No, why would it be?"

"She hates you a little too much for her to actually hate you. There is a thin line between love and hate, you know."

"Uh…"

"Besides, you have the biggest thing for her, dear. I think it's adorable. You two are adorable."

"Uh…"

"Flo, don't get carried away."

"But Bob!"

"Flo, honey, relax…"

Oh, man, I can't stomach that. At all. Whatsoever. Almost as much as I can't stomach this sandwich. I get up, marching upstairs. I've got a lot to do, don't I?

Definitely.

Well, by now it's like two in the afternoon. The dance starts at seven. Okay then.

- Loren ;

Oh, as to if anything happened with Spinelli and T.J., that's for you to know. But there's no problems stemming from it… It gets bad once they get to the dance.

Review if the mood strikes you.


	22. Where Everybody Knows Your Alias

Oh, I don't live in England. Lol… It's a funny story actually… I've seen pretty much every episode like several times…lol… Anyways, it's not that I'm British, it's actually that I'm old and so I saw them before they were on Disney… When they were on ABC's One Saturday Morning ages and ages ago… hums song One Saturday morning, once a week… One Saturday morning! One Saturday morning! Y'know, back when anime was nonexistent here, and Disney didn't totally suck…

That was a long time ago, when they actually wrote cartoons about real, relevant things, like elementary school… When all they had on One Saturday Morning was cartoons… With none of this new Power Rangers crap… When they had Winnie the Pooh, Recess, The Weekenders, Doug (even though I absofrickinglutely hated that show), and Hercules on… lol… Good times, they were. Anyways…

Okay, in this chapter, you get to see a bit of the pre-T.J. (as in before she started befriending him again) Spinelli. And, T.J.'s parents, let's just say that they got some money or something, and he got the convertible as a sixteenth birthday present or whatever.

She goes clubbing a lot. And they call her Mysti because it's the name on her fake i.d.

Oh, I own 100-Proof, Tom the bartender, Danny, and Jimmy.

By six, I'm showered, nails painted, and dressed. My hair is stick-straight and down, for once, and I'm wearing the red dress I got before with the tallest pair of heels I've ever seen, let alone worn. I look at myself in the mirror, satisfied by my reflection. Well, I'd best get going. I have a dance to get to. I storm out of the front door, and there's T.J., in a tux, of course, waiting for me by a silver Mercedes convertible. I still don't know how he got that car.

"Hop in," He mutters half-heartedly.

I do so, sliding over the door and bouncing unto the driver's seat. T.J. shrugs, but lets me drive anyways.

"Where do you want to go?" T.J. asks.

"Away from here," I reply.

He shrugs helplessly.

"We can't really go anywhere."

"Oh, I know that, T.J., but it'd be nice. Hmm, how about a night club?" I reply calmly.

T.J. nods and I speed, making a crazy turn, a police car soon following me. T.J. looks relatively detached and I smirk, putting on a pair of sunglasses from the car, tossing T.J. another pair. He puts the pair on, and holds on as the car makes a few more hairpin curves, does a little spin, chasing through narrow alleyways, weaving in and out. The police didn't get the car's license because it never got close enough. And now we've lost it.

I skid to a stop in front of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, my favorite club in the city. It's called 100-Proof. Just like the alcohol they serve. Anyways, T.J. shrugs, as we get out, locking the car and pulling the top up. I drag him inside, smirking.

"Bet you I can get at least ten guys to buy me a drink."

T.J. smirks, shaking my hand.

"You're on, Spin."

I push the sunglasses up on top of my head, walking towards the bar and sitting down, leaning forward a little.

"Hey, Tom, whatcha got?"

He smiles, washing glasses with a rag.

"Why, if it isn't Skyy Smirnoff!" Tom says congenially.

I smirk at him.

"You know it, man. So, what do you have?" I remark.

Tom grins.

"Well, we've got the usuals… Vodka, gin, white whine, red wine, champagne, scotch, beer, whiskey, light, soda, bourbon, brandy, tequila, kahlua, rum, non-alcoholic… You want it, you got it." Tom remarks.

Hmm. What do I want tonight? Oh, right, no drink. I've gotta get ten guys to buy me some. I turn around, leaning back against the bar.

"Hey, guys! Mysti's here!" Tom shouts, and a mass of guys' eyes are riveted to my form.

I smile at them, wink once and then sit down, legs crossed, on a stool. I get the first drink about ten seconds later. I take a sip. Gin and tonic. I hold the glass up to T.J. The next drink arrives seconds later. This one's a martini… He knows my taste. It's probably Danny again. I wink at Danny, a guy with hair that rivals mine in darkness, and blue eyes. He's a sophomore in college, majoring in Paranormal Studies. He's hot actually, but, you know me, I've gone out with loads of guys.

I take another sip of this one; I can't afford to get drunk again. I hold the drink up to T.J. again, getting up to stretch. This stretch merits me with yet another drink, this one a Bloody Mary. I take a sip, holding it up again. I bend down over the counter, and this move rewards me with two drinks. One's a whiskey sour, the other a margarita. I wink at a couple of guys, and that buys me two more. One of them's classy, apparently, so I've got a glass of champagne, and then the other one's cheap, so I get a beer.

I pretend to drop something, which earns me a rum and coke and a metropolitan. Finally, I yawn, and then a Sea Breeze wisps over to me. I smirk at T.J., motioning for him to come over. T.J. does, scowling a little.

He hands me twenty bucks, which I stash down my dress, grinning.

"Thanks," I smile.

Then I look around, eyes landing on Danny.

"You got a light?" I ask.

Danny nods.

"Of course, Mysti. I don't have any cigs to bum though. Here, take the lighter. Ask Jimmy, he's prolly got some," Danny answers, handing me a silver lighter.

I take it, smiling.

"Thanks, Danny."

I kiss him on the lips, trying to find Jimmy. I find the guy in the corner, smoking.

"Couldja spare some?" I beg.

Jimmy nods, grinning. He tosses me a pack and I pull him into a kiss.

"Thanks, Jimmy."

I've gotta be goin'. It's almost seven. I take a cigarette out of the pack, lighting it with the lighter, and shoving it down my bra. I drag on it a little, hopping back into the car.

- Loren ;

Hope you liked that. Review, por favor! Gracias!


	23. I No Cat TJ's in Dove With Spinelli

Ah, the chapters the entire fic's been leading up to… The dun, dun, DUN Prom/Dance-y Thingie…

I don't own Washington High (their school, I think…), Matchbox 20, or the song I'm Gone. Matter of fact, I can't really remember why I chose that song anyways. Nor for that matter do I own T.J., Spinelli, Jared, Mikey, Gus, Gretchen, Vince, or the Ashleys. I don't own Helaine, but I do own her name. Oh, and I own Jack Fitzgerald…

Thanks for all the reviews. Especially The Next Political Dynasty, who's reviewed like every freakin' chapter… Thanks a lot!

Thanks to everyone else who has reviewed. Those reviews mean a lot to me.

Man, doesn't Spinelli get into a lot of hi-jinks? Lol. She has terribly bad luck, but I guess we all do sometimes, don't we? And she really, really, really sucks at lip-reading. Poor girl. She's having a bit of a rough time.

Oh well, just makes it more fun for me… By the way, this chapter is kind of song-fic-y, even though it's not a song-fic, but it's prom, and there's got to be music…

Anyways, on with the story…

T.J. parks the car in the parking lot, and we both get out of it. The dance is already in full swing. I guess we're "fashionably late". I drop my cigarette on the ground, grinding it under my heel. I take a deep breath, dreading this night more than ever, but T.J. shoots me a look, and so I nod, exhale and walk inside. T.J. follows.

I glance at T.J.

"Well, I guess we're supposed to dance, right?" He asks, sounding somewhat nervous.

It's almost as if… Nah, it can't be. I won't let it be. He grabs my hand, dragging me out unto the dance floor. Hmm, it's some Matchbox 20 song playing. Wonder why they're called Matchbox 20 anyways?

_I think I've already lost you  
I think you're already gone  
I think I'm finally scared now  
You think I'm weak - but I think you're wrong  
I think you're already leaving  
Feels like your hand is on the door  
I thought this place was an empire  
But now I'm relaxed - I can't be sure  
_

Okay, T.J. is giving me some seriously weird looks, and I think I know what they mean, I just really hope that I'm not right. Really. I don't even want to think about what it means if I'm right. But of course, we are slow dancing, so it could just be a proximity thing, to tell the truth. At least, I hope it's a proximity thing.

_I think you're so mean - I think we should try  
I think I could need - this in my life  
I think I'm just scared - I think too much  
I know this is wrong it's a problem I'm dealing_

The looks are, if this is actually possible, getting worse. They're intensifying. It's that same puppy dog look from before, and I really don't like it. It's making me nervous.

_If you're gone - maybe it's time to go home  
There's an awful lot of breathing room  
But I can hardly move  
If you're gone - baby you need to come home  
'Cause there's a little bit of something me  
In everything in you  
_

I sincerely hope that I'm not being paranoid, but I dunno about this. I swear, everyone is staring at me and T.J. Okay, yeah, I get that everyone knows that we hate each other and that now we're dancing together, really close, and this has to look seriously bizarre, but that doesn't mean that they should stare at me because of it. What, do they honestly think that I want to do this? Because I really don't. But what else can I do? Teej has yet to tell me when I'm supposed to go kiss Vince. Which I still don't want to do, as I think I've covered that base more than enough.

_I bet you're hard to get over  
I bet the room just won't shine  
I bet my hands I can stay here  
I bet you need - more than you mind  
_

"T.J.?"

Hey, it's Jared!

"Spinelli, you know this guy?" T.J. asks, tilting his head towards Jared.

I nod, smiling at Jared.

"Teej, I can't believe you don't remember Jared from fourth grade!" I exclaim.

Jared smiles at me.

"Nice to see you again, Spinelli," He grins.

T.J.'s scowling a little. Wonder why. I just hope he's not…

But then, T.J. smiles, breaking the dance, and turning to Jared, patting him on the back.

"Jared, man, it's great to see you! How've things been going for you?" T.J. says enthusiastically.

Jared shrugs.

"Same as ever, T.J. So, where is everyone else?" Jared questions.

T.J. shrugs.

"Around, I guess."

_I think you're so mean - I think we should try  
I think I could need - this in my life  
I think I'm just scared - that I know too much  
I can't relate and that's a problem I'm feeling_

Mikey's hanging out by the refreshment table, Gus is off somewhere, dancing with someone, and there's Gretchen and Vince over there, in a corner, making out. Great.

"Look, I'm gonna talk to Jared here, so, uh, if you see Vince leave the room, go after him, okay?" T.J. whispers.

Okay, whatever. I'll get some punch. Hope it's spiked. The aspirin's startin' to wear off. So, I walk off the dance floor, pushing past the gaping Ashleys. Sheesh, they ought to have realized by now that I clean up nice. I get myself a glass of punch, looking out at them. Vince and Gretchen are now dancing, but Jared and T.J. appear to be talking in a corner.

I think I can read their lips.

Hmm, T.J. looks kinda angry, but it looks like he's tryin' to hide bein' angry. Hmm. Jared looks kinda hopeful.

Hmm. Jared's saying something… Luck, T.J., I no cat you are in dove with Spinelli, but I… He's turned away now. But that doesn't make any sense. Luck, T.J.? I no cat? In dove with Spinelli? Okay, I suck at this. I seriously do.

_If you're gone - maybe it's time to go home  
There's an awful lot of breathing room  
But I can hardly move  
If you're gone - baby you need to come home  
'Cause there's a little bit of something me  
In everything in you_

Maybe he said… No, he couldn't have. At least, I hope he didn't.

T.J.'s shaking his head, denying it. No. That I can make out clearly. Hmm. Ooh, he looks angry. Hmm, but he's shaking it off. Whatever he's saying seems to make Jared really happy. Hmm, I wonder…

Helaine walks over to me, smirking, drink in hand, though I don't notice.

"Drinking alone, Spinelli? Is that what this has come down to?"

I turn around, startled.

_I think you're so mean - I think we should try  
I think I could need - this in my life  
I think I'm just scared - do I talk too much  
I know this is wrong it's a problem I'm dealing_

"Helaine! Hi!" I exclaim, shocked.

Helaine smirks. She's done a lot of that lately. She sips her own cup of "punch".

"Hey, Spin, enjoying the view?" Helaine asks smugly.

She thinks…? Oh, no. Don't even get me started.

"What view?" I say, turning away.

Helaine's rolling her eyes behind my back, and I gulp down some more punch.

"Oh, you know perfectly well who you were staring at," Helaine insists bossily.

I turn around, rolling my eyes.

"Look, I wasn't staring at HIM. I was staring at Jared. They were talking about something and I was trying to read their lips. I have no idea what they were saying, really," I say, lying to some degree.

Helaine shoots me a look, drinking a little more of the punch.

"So, Spinelli, I didn't see you much at the parties last night…" She replies sneakily.

She's baiting me. I don't even want to THINK about last night. She knows something happened. But, then again, she didn't see me much, or, for that matter, see me go home.

"Well, I was otherwise engaged being anti-social. I walked home," I snap, trying to maintain a sense of calm.

Helaine rolls her eyes, sipping some more punch.

"Right, Spinelli, I totally believe that," She mutters sarcastically.

Suddenly I see HIM, and everything stops. Now, I'm not talking about T.J. No, I've seen him more than enough over the past few weeks. No, I'm talking about Mr. Fitzgerald, Jack, Fitzy, whatever… A chill runs through me and I turn back to Helaine, feeling his gaze on my back, downing the rest of my drink. There isn't near enough alcohol in it.

_If you're gone - maybe it's time to go home  
There's an awful lot of breathing room  
But I can hardly move  
If you're gone - baby you need to come home  
'Cause there's a little bit of something me  
In everything in you_

I gulp, but Helaine misses my discomfort, merely figuring it as stress over T.J. He's coming.

- Loren ;

Review please. Thank you. Hope you enjoyed it.

Rock on!


	24. Spike My Punch a Little More

"Ladies, are you certain that you should be drinking so much of that "punch"? I believe it's spiked, and alcohol can do terrible things to people," Mr. Fitzgerald says, joining us from behind.

Don't I know it. I notice my glass is empty, and I walk over to the punch table to fill it up. I don't know how I manage to walk past him, but I do it, struggling to not be sick.

I walk back, standing next to Helaine and drinking significantly larger amounts of the punch than I should. I try to maintain a sense of cool, pausing from my drinking and looking Mr. Fitzgerald straight in the eyes.

"Well, Fitzy, maybe that's the way we like it!" I snap much harsher than I intended.

Helaine shoots me a quizzical look, but I merely shrug, taking another sip of the tainted punch. She shrugs helplessly, but Mr. Fitzgerald shows no change in his appearance.

"Very well then. I'll see you later, Miss Spinelli," He says, somewhat coldly.

I shiver unnoticeably, and Helaine shoots me a confused look. I wrap an arm around my middle, taking another sip of the drink. Vince and Gretchen are still dancing.

"Spinelli, what's up with you? You and Fitz are usually as thick as thieves," Helaine questions, turning to me.

I wince at the analogy, glancing over at her, smiling weakly.

"Oh, I'm not feeling too well, this punch isn't sitting too well on my stomach… Or my brain…" I lie, though I truly do feel squeamish.

I take a sip of my drink.

"You know, for a teacher, Fitzy's looking pretty hot in that tux. I'd be all over him if he was normal," Helaine remarks.

I sputter, choking on my drink. Oh brother. Helaine cracks up, pointing at me.

"Oh, man, you ought to see the look on your face!" Helaine laughs.

I cough a little more, patting my chest, the martini pendant on my necklace shaking.

"It's not funny!" I cough.

Helaine smiles a little, nodding sadly.

"Okay, Spin, hope you feel better," Helaine apologizes, going off to dance with her date.

I shrug, feeling a little better. I notice Vince and Gretchen breaking apart. Vince is moving to leave the room, and Gretchen's walking over to Mikey. Okay, now it's time for me to go. I move to leave, eyes connecting with T.J.'s as I go out the door.

He nods, poised to go over to Gretchen. I sigh, walking through the door. There's Vince, sitting on a bench on the porch. Oh joy.

Here goes.

- Loren ;

Ooh, next chapter the plan goes in action… What a cliffhanger! Nah, not really. Poor Spinelli.


	25. Arthur's Triangle of Love and Lust

Ah, remember the plan? Well, it's happening in this chapter. But will Gretchen believe Spinelli over Vince?

Oh, don't own any Recess stuff… Only the situations presented in this fic, i.e. the plot.

"Hey, Vince," I say, calmly, assuredly, even though I'm quaking inside.

Vince nods back at me.

"Yo," He mutters, looking down.

I bite my lip, sitting down next to him, legs crossed, arranging my dress so the slit shows off an even wider expanse of leg.

"So, why're you out here?" I ask somewhat huskily.

I almost wince at my own tone. I don't want to sound like a slut. I'm not even really attracted to him. Ugh. Vince shrugs, barely glancing at me. Ugh, I can't wait for him to come unto me. I'm going to do this fast.

I move towards Vince, placing my hand on his knee and leaning forward. My hair brushes against his face. He's staring and I know it. A sick pleasure runs through me. I lean in, kissing him. Soon, I'm all the way on top of him, and hoping with every fiber of my being that T.J. and Gretchen will pop in soon. I can't do this much longer. My air's running out, and I don't like kissing Vince. Come on, I pray.

"Hey, Gretchen, I've got something to show you…" T.J. begins.

I hear a gasp behind me, a gasp that Vince doesn't hear. I break away from him, a disgusted look on my face.

"Vince, this is wrong!" I pant, trying to act innocent, "You're dating Gretchen, you shouldn't have kissed me!"

Someone clears their throat, though I know it's Gretchen, I turn around, plastering a surprised look on my face and falling painfully off Vince's lap. I push myself up, gaping up at Gretchen, whose arms rest on her hips, an angry look on her face. I rush to my feet, trying to look like a deer caught in headlights as I dust myself off, pulling the straps of my dress back up to their upright position.

"Gretchen," I say, sniffling a little bit, "I'm so sorry. Vince… He just… Oh, I can't believe him! It's so horrible… What he did to you! Cheating and everything!"

Gretchen shoots me a look.

"Don't act so innocent, Spinelli!" She scowls.

I look at her, outraged, or pretending to be.

"He jumped on me! What sick freak of a boyfriend does that?" I hiss.

Vince gets up, pointing and glaring at me.

"Hey, she's lying!" Vince shouts.

Gretchen looks away, tears in her eyes.

"I can't believe… Either one of you… Would do this to me! My best friend… My boyfriend! I feel like Arthur when he discovered that Lancelot was screwing Guinevere under his nose! I can't believe you, you traitors!" Gretchen screams, running back inside.

Vince glares at me, chasing after Gretchen. I pull a cigarette out of my top, the lighter with it. I flick it open, lighting it. I blow smoke out, feeling a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off, thinking it's T.J. I don't want to talk to him.

A hand turns me around and I scowl, thinking it's T.J., but it's not.

- Loren ;

Oh, and when Spinelli says that a sick pleasure runs through her, it's not because she likes Vince. Spinelli's not a bad liar ('cause she's lied a lot in this fic, actually), Gretchen and Vince… Well, you'll see about them later…

Next Chapter: A big confrontation, and you finally find out what's the deal with Jack and his feelings for Spinelli.


	26. Tiger Lily

Lol. You're totally right about it being anti-climactic. You'll find out why it was so anti-climactic in a few chapters… In about three. There's a pretty good reason why it's so anti-climactic. I guess it's because the breaking-up of Vince and Gretchen, while being the original issue is no longer the main issue. That's just kind of how it started… Matter of fact, I'm not really sure this story's got a climax… But it'll all come together in the end. And believe me… I don't know how many times I rewrote the ending. So, at eighty-five pages, the story's all complete. I'm just withholding the chapters… smirks

Anyways, so yeah…

It's Mr. Fitzgerald. I nearly drop my cigarette. He takes it out of my fingers.

"Didn't know you smoked, Spinelli. It's a dangerous habit to have," He replies seriously, tossing it on the ground and grinding it under his heel.

I shrug, looking away from him. I pull another cigarette out of my dress, looking up, lighter in hand. I put the cigarette in my mouth.

"So what? Maybe I don't care that it's dangerous!" I hiss venomously, lighting the cigarette.

I blow smoke in his face, furious.

"You do know that smoking makes your teeth yellow and gives you wrinkles, right? Aside from the higher risks of pulmonary, esophageal, and oral cancers, it's still terribly unhealthy. It contains cyanide, nicotine, tar, tobacco, and ammonia, to name a few dangerous components. In case you didn't know, cyanide's in rat poison, ammonia's in bleach, and, why, tar's used on our roads. I believe it's made from oil, right?" He criticizes nonchalantly.

I scowl at him, blowing more smoke in his face.

"I'm self-destructive, okay? By the way, second-hand smoke kills!" I snap, cigarette in hand, then I blow more smoke on him.

He merely shrugs, smirking at me.

"Ah, see, now you've learned something," He mutters sarcastically.

I'm working myself into an intense rage over here, steaming more than my cigarette.

"We ought to talk."

I whirl around, shooting him a glare that would've killed just about anyone else.

"Don't worry, Mr. F., I won't tell your boss that you kissed me. I won't get you fired," I growl, pissed off.

He shrugs, looking down nervously.

"Actually, that's not what I was worried about, Spinelli. I just wanted to apologize," Mr. Fitzgerald says, sounding serious.

I roll my eyes, putting my fingers in a v-shape around the cigarette and then blowing out.

"More like you just wanted to jump my bones!" I mutter violently, glaring at him.

He shakes his head, leaning against the porch rail.

"No, Spinelli, I don't," Fitzy tries to reassure.

Of course, there's no way I'm buying that crap. I throw my cigarette at him, which he deftly catches.

"You're a sex-starved teacher, you're so horny you could jump anything!" I bark, annoyed.

He rolls his eyes.

"Spinelli, while that might be true, I don't sleep with my students… No matter how…" He trails off, looking me over.

Oh brother. I think I might be sick. He sighs.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry for what I did. Do you think you could forget about it?" He pleads.

How can I forget something I'm so ashamed of? How can he even ask me to do that? I want to forget. I want to forget so bad it hurts. But I can't. I can never forget anything.

It's my curse. No matter how much I hate my memories, I'm stuck with them. And smoking, getting drunk, or sleeping with every single person in the world won't change it. But it does make it easier to deal with sometimes.

And so I turn away from him. This lesson is one I learned the hard way. It's a lesson I thought I already knew. Oh well. I try and leave, but he grabs my arm, looking me straight in the eyes.

"No, okay, I can't forget. You can't just forget your worst memories, the miserable times in your life, okay? I could pretend, but what would the point be?" I condemned.

He looks hurt. But right now, I don't care. I try and leave, but something's changed in him. I don't know what it is, but he pulls me back. And somehow, that's not what freaks me out the most. It's the way he looks at me.

I can't say I've never seen this look before because I have. I've seen it before on every guy who's ever looked at me with desire in his eyes. I've seen it before on every guy who's ever been interested in me. I've seen it on every boyfriend I've ever had.

"Spinelli, please forgive me for doing this, but I just can't do this anymore. I promise that if you feel uncomfortable around me for the rest of the year, I'll get sick or move or something, okay? But I've just got to say this…" He starts.

I know what words are going to follow that. I know what they are, what they will be, and I dread them. These words are the words I have tried to run from my entire life. Words I can hardly say aloud, or hardly ever mean if I do. I can't remember someone who's ever really sincerely said those words to me. And that's why I've run from them. I can't react to them. I don't even know how.

He kisses me then, grabbing my face, in almost groping motions. I can't react. But I am, I'm responding and I don't know why or how. He breaks the kiss, looking sad and serious. I can merely gape calmly, trying once more to hold myself together.

"I know that that was another terrible moment in your life. I get that. But, Spinelli, I love you; even though there's no way that you could love me. And that's okay, because my feelings are wrong, and I understand that," He expands nervously.

I can hear the hurt in his voice, even though I've said nothing to him. Sometimes silence can hurt more than words. Trust me, I know.

I place a hand on his shoulder, as he turns away.

"You always manage to make me feel bad for you when I'm the one being wronged. I hate that. And you're right, there isn't a way I could love you. If things were different, it could've been you, even," I apologize, or, at least try to.

He nods gruffly, eyes misty.

"Yeah, I know. You've got T.J." He replies, sounding depressed and somewhat jealous.

I'm flattered in some ways by his affection… But what did he just say about T.J. and me?

"No, there's no one else. I'm not in love with T.J. I just can't love you because I don't know how to love anyone. And besides, you're my teacher. You're older than me. Way older," I declare, though I don't understand why these words are spewing from my mouth.

He laughs a little. I've never understood why he laughs when he does.

"I'm twenty-two, Spinelli," He mutters, laughing bitterly.

I scowl at him a little.

"Well, that's six years! That's pretty sad. I've got brothers older than you. And you're still my teacher!" I hiss, annoyed.

He sighs.

"Can I ask for just one favor?" He begs.

He looks so sad, and it hurts me to know that I did that to him. So I give in, nodding.

"Sure."

He looks down, licking his lips.

"Will you kiss me one last time?" He questions nervously.

I nod, moving in to kiss him. I kiss him one last time, softly. It's strange to do this, but, hey, I've done stranger things. When I break the kiss, I look at him, holding his face.

"I'm sorry, Jack," I whisper, looking over his shoulder and seeing T.J., whose face contains an expression I can't recognize.

I smile at Jack weakly, walking past him, looking for T.J.

Loren ;

I would like some pretty, pretty, pretty reviews, please? (HINT, HINT) I collect them, you see, and I'm hoping for a few more. Y'know, just to keep me warm at night…

Okay, so T.J. saw that… What's he gonna do about it? Hmm…


	27. Just Blowing Smoke

Hmm… What will happen? Will T.J. screw Spinelli over as she did before?

I suppose you'll just have to read on to find out…

I don't own Recess.

I chase after T.J., walking back into the ballroom. Where is he? He could blackmail me forever with what he just saw. I've got to make sure that he doesn't tell anyone.

Aha! There he is!

Oh no. He's talking to Ashley A. I am so screwed. T.J. sees me and scuttles out the door. I walk toward Ashley A., feeling as if everything around me is moving in slow motion. My entire life could be ruined here. I pull a cigarette out of my top, lighting it with the lighter, which I replace.

I swallow, starting to walk up to her.

However, a dweeb in a suit stops me. Menlo.

"Miss Spinelli, smoking is not permitted here," He says robotically.

I scowl at him, blowing smoke in his face.

"Well, Menlo, shove it!" I snap, nervous.

He rolls his eyes, annoyed.

"Okay, fine, Ashley, I'll have to get an higher authority," Menlo mocks.

I glare at him, blowing more smoke.

"Look, Menlo, don't piss me off. I'll beat the crap outta ya if you don't leave me alone!" I hiss, cracking my knuckles.

Menlo gulps, running off. I blow a ring of smoke out, smiling satisfactorily, finally walking over to Ashley A.

"Hi, Ashley. How are you today?" I ask, trying to sound polite.

She gives me a harsh look.

"Cut the crap, Spinelli," She snarls, glaring.

I exhale softly.

"Okay. Uh, what did T.J. tell you?" I demand, somewhat worried and apprehensive.

She thinks for a minute, as if she doesn't remember. She just wants to hurt me, though. She knows that I hate waiting.

"Hmm, like Spin-Ugly, he like just said some things that like aren't like any of your like business, if you like know what I mean. But, like, you know, I'll like tell you like anyways. I mean, you like got me this like totally rad new nose, so I like totally owe you. He like just said some like stuff about how he like didn't like want to be with like me and then he like went on about like some other stuff… but I like totally can't tell you that, it's like way too personal, and he'll like tell you like way later, if he can like muster up like the courage," Ashley A. expounds.

Hmm, wonder what she meant by the last part.

And why didn't T.J. tell her?

After what I've done to him, why didn't he burn me like I burned him?

I don't understand him.

I have to find him.

So I walk right out the door, getting one of the biggest surprises of my life.

Loren ;

Alas, what is this big surprise? And just why exactly hasn't he burned her over… yet? Ah, the questions that remain…


	28. The True Reality of Lies

Okay, here it is… The reason why the confrontation was kinda lame… lol… The King Arthur reference… I was trying to think of something smart for Gretchen to say and that was when I was going through the Camelot phase…lol… Still fun, though.

Have you ever noticed in Recess how they don't all really get along, but yet they rarely fight? It's very weird…

Anyways, thanks to all you reviewers, especially frigginpixiedust… blushes You flatter me… lol… And you're right, I'm a girl… I don't think there's a lot of guy writers though… shrugs Maybe they've got troubles with romances or something… Or, it could be that they just don't read or can't write… I mean, there's like eight guys in my English class, and that's a lot… lol… We're the worst honors class, too… The best one has like three guys… How sad is that?

Or maybe it's just that guys are out playing sports and stuff… While we girls sit here, writing out our aggressions… I dunno… I write out my aggressions… There's a lot of them… Sorry, random side-note…

Anyways, ya'll rock… Love you guys, seriously… Now on to the story… I don't like this chapter much, though… It's blerg. Yeah, blerg.

I hear Vince and Gretchen talking. If I squint, I can see them sitting on a bench in the distance. I strain my ear to hear what they're saying.

"Gretch, I gotta give you some props. Spinelli and Teej acted exactly the way you predicted they would."

I cannot believe them! Plotting against us! Liars!

"Why, thank you, Vince."

Ugh. See, this is why I never liked them going out.

"And the acting tonight. It was really great. The fake tears, the Camelot reference… It was great work. Good thing Mikey's giving you acting lessons."

Acting lessons! Ugh, the traitor! How vast is this conspiracy?

"Yeah. We had a nice fake relationship, Vince. We fooled everyone, didn't we?"

Yep. Oh, boy.

"Yeah, we did. But did we fool ourselves too, Gretchen?"

Deep and philosophical of him, isn't it? I wonder if she realizes what he's saying. Oh, who am I kidding? She's a genius. Of course she knows!

"What do you mean, Vince?"

She sounds urgent. Maybe she's realized it and she's in denial.

"Gretch, you're smart, you figure it out!"

Vince is a little snappy, isn't he?

"I don't get it. Do you mean that we deluded ourselves into believing that we had an actual relationship, or that we deluded ourselves into believing that we weren't really a couple, or that we deluded ourselves into believing that we were only doing this for Spinelli and T.J., Vince? You have to be more clear."

Vince sighs. Sometimes Gretchen can be so dumb.

"I think it was the middle one, Gretchen."

Wow. Blunt, even by my standards.

"So, Vince, you're saying that you have feelings for me?"

I can see Vince nodding from here.

"Yeah, Gretch, I do. Do you think we could maybe go out sometime?"

Oh, man.

"Well, since you have the audacity to dare query a question such as that, I have no choice but to offer my sanction to your proposal, Vince."

Ah, she still has to talk like that. I can just picture the look Vince is shooting her.

"And that means? In English, please."

"Yes, Vince, it means yes."

Vince beams hugely and kisses Gretchen hard. I avert my eyes, walking around and searching for T.J. I'll bring them down later. They're too happy. I still can't manage to find T.J.

I give in then, going back inside, tossing my cigarette on the ground, not bothering to put it out.

Loren ;

Okay, so maybe I was exaggerating a little when I said it was one of the biggest surprises of her life, but she's having a lot of problems and stresses around this time in the fic… She's got bad luck, what can I say? But, aww, Vince and Gretchen… So fluffy… But hmm, where's T.J.?

Anyways, Spinelli's kinda pissed that they knew and were doing this all on purpose… Sorry that the chapters are so short, but the next ones get longer…

Later!


	29. Shut Up, Don't Tell Me

You asked for a new chapter, and, well, your wish is my command… When I feel like it. I'll probably be updating more this week, though I dunno if I'll have all the chapters up before I go on Spring Break… On second thought, I probably won't, 'cause I rewrote the ending like twelve times… And I kept adding, dividing, and rearranging chapters… So if anything's a little screwy or off ahead, that's prolly what it is…

I don't own Recess or _Don't Speak_ by No Doubt. I mean, hello, No Doubt owns the song. And Paulie and Joey own Recess. I love No Doubt though, seriously. This is another one of those song-fic-y chapters, but they're at the prom, so there's music. Don't worry, there's only one more song-fic-y chapter, I promise! And, actually, I think that's the next one… But that's okay.

I just love the next image of T.J. throwing his punch and hitting Randall with it… Sorry, lol… It's just funny to imagine. Anyways… There is a point to all my ramblings… And I'll let you know when I find out just **what** that is…

The cords of a very familiar song play from the DJ's section. I find T.J. by the refreshment table, drinking punch. I think he's kinda drunk. When he sees me, he tosses the drink behind him, hitting Randall in the face. I smirk at him and he walks over to me.

"Dance?"

_You and me_

_We used to be together_

_Every day together always_

I used to play this song all the time. I was pretty depressed in fifth and sixth grade. It was supposedly the ultimate break-up song. Not that I broke up with anyone, but I did lose a lot of my friends. So I nod at the slightly drunk (but who here isn't?… And that includes me) T.J., grabbing his hand.

_I really feel_

_I'm losing my best friend_

_I can't believe_

_This could be the end_

This is really ironic, actually. I didn't picture myself here, of all places, ever. At a prom, dancing with T.J. Not the future I'd ever really pictured for myself. But here I am.

_It looks as though you're letting go_

_And if it's real,_

Well I don't want to know 

Then it hits me. I remember why I was even looking for him in the first place, panic flooding me. T.J. notices my panic, as I become stiffer than a board in his arms. He shoots me a, concerned (?), look, perhaps.

I shrug, wondering how to put this. I open my mouth to speak, but he puts a finger over my lips.

"Don't speak."

_Don't speak_

_I know just what you're saying_

_So please stop explaining_

_Don't tell me 'cause it hurts_

_Don't speak_

_I know what you're thinking_

_I don't need your reasons_

_Don't tell me 'cause it hurts_

The irony is gonna kill me.

I can't move. Seriously. It's strange. I feel a tap on my shoulder.

_Our memories_

_They can be inviting_

_But some are altogether_

_Mighty frightening_

It's Jared, who's smiling.

"May I cut in, T.J.?"

T.J. looks rather sad for a minute, but nods, stepping out of the way. Jared grabs unto me and T.J. slinks back towards the wall. We sway to the depressing music.

_As we die, both you and I_

_With my head in my hands_

_I sit and cry_

"Look, Spinelli, I have to tell you something," Jared begins.

This can't be good. No way. But I nod anyways.

"Okay," I mutter.

He looks down nervously.

_Don't speak_

_I know just what you're saying_

_So please stop explaining_

_Don't tell me 'cause it hurts_

_Don't speak_

_I know what you're thinking_

_I don't need your reasons_

_Don't tell me 'cause it hurts_

He sighs sadly.

"I wish that I didn't have to say this, but I do. You deserve to know," He mutters pessimistically.

I'm not going to like this. I can tell. I exhale deeply.

"Lay it on me, Jared," I reply calmly.

My eyes focus straight ahead, a calm façade over my tangled emotions. Jared looks down, perhaps feeling guilt.

"Okay, Spinelli, well, the thing is… I just found out that the president needs me again. I have to go away. I'm sorry," He apologizes.

_It's all ending_

_I gotta stop pretending who we are…_

_You and me_

_I can see us dying…are we?_

How can he not say something about that earlier? As if this dance wasn't bad enough. Oh well, I didn't even really know him so well, right? Oh, who am I kidding?

I'm going to miss him. I hug him goodbye.

"I guess you have to go now," I mumble softly.

He nods, leaving, and I walk towards T.J. at the back wall.

_Don't speak_

_I know just what you're saying_

_So please stop explaining_

_Don't tell me 'cause it hurts_

_Don't speak_

_I know what you're thinking_

_I don't need your reasons_

_Don't tell me 'cause it hurts_

"So, T.J., why didn't you tell Ashley A.?"

T.J. looks away from me.

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

I exhale softly, the ending cords of the song almost entirely faded away.

"I wish you would."

Loren ;

Someone should seriously do an actual songfic to Don't Speak. It'd be awesome.

Okay, who was glad that Jared left? Lol… Everyone? Me too… He only served as a nice plot distraction for a bit…

Ah, this fic is drawing nearer and nearer to its quasi-resolved (a rarity for me… I tend to be fond of cliffhangers and curve-ball twists and unhappy endings… But then again, life imitates art imitates life… No, seriously, in like a really old fic, I was gonna end it with the main character dangling off a cliff, literally… And there were killer bees, a cloud of poison, vicious dogs, terrorists going down the side of the cliff, a guy with a gun, throwing stars, a sharp, pointy drop… Man, I forgot how fun that was… Never finished it though. C'est dommage!) ending (Phew, that was a long ramble… And here I go again…). Anyways, it's somewhat happy… And I'm gonna shut up now like the chapter says before I tell you how it ends…

Rock on! Keep on doing your math homework!

Well, actually, I could care less about math homework. But hey, it's how I get to stay up late… I really don't wanna know what my math grade's like shudders. So, whenever you're doing something that you're not supposed to be doing, just say: "But I'm doing my math homework! You wouldn't want me to flunk, would you? You obviously don't realize that if you don't do the homework, then that almost ensures an F, you lousy saboteur! Now, if you excuse me, I have to be getting back to my math homework, because I'm slow with numbers and I haven't even finished two problems yet, and, hello, look at the time! Now go away, you're disrupting my concentration! Dangit, where was I? Now I have to start all over again… 3.14-something-something-something-times-infinity-equals-pi… Grr…"

Lol… Anyways… Stay tuned… Next time you might get a rant on Gym… Blech, gym.


	30. The Girl He Wants

Lol… Trust me, you really don't want to get me started on our ahem "president".

It's funny, though, 'cause when I wrote that, it was just a convenient excuse for him to leave. 'Cause that's like the exact reason he left in the show… lol… And I didn't even mean it as an insult, but yeah… The president needs Jared's help. A lot. 'Cause our country's in quite a bind, really, but that is a topic for another day.

Actually, though, the fic I was talking about was the first one I ever wrote… I think I wrote in the beginning of seventh grade… Man, that was a long time ago. Not that I ever finished it… But it was all twisty-and-turny and totally unrealistic and unbelievable, but hey, it was AU and that's how it was supposed to be.

Man, those were the days. Actually, though, it wasn't a Recess fic. It's on this site, actually… Kate Jones and the Last Rambaldi Device. A rather witty title, if I do say so myself… Anyways, my first Recess fic was a one-shot called The Magic of Snow. It's kinda bad.

My first Recess fic was Betrayal… It was only like four chapters, but hey, pretty cool. That was actually the first fic I ever finished too.

Seriously, I read so much fanfic… It's not even funny. So I kinda have this little monitoring system of knowing if things are good… Like, if things aren't capitalized or are when they shouldn't be or words are misspelled in the summary… Generally a bad sign.

And if you wanna find out what kind of 'shipper someone is, just look at their profile, and if it's not there, then just look to see what kind of stories are their favorites and which kind they write. Oh, and OCs… I usually really hate those, because they're all Mary-Sueish or like, hooking up with a character I don't want to… Or they've got a sad past or something… There are a few exceptions, though.

Ooh, and it's annoying when there's like a gazillion song-fics of the same song. Or when there's a crossover that makes absolutely no sense, as in, like, not even in the same time period without the use of time travel… And when they get numerous facts wrong about the show that they include… That's always annoying, but hey, I'm a stickler for these odd things.

Which is why I prolly try to keep them as much in character as I can. And Spinelli is, but I dunno about T.J.

Seriously, though, I've read like a gazillion pages of fanfic. It's scary.

Anyways, here we are… Back at the prom again…

T.J. shoots me an intense look.

"I wish I could."

Then he walks over, getting two cups of punch. He hands me one. We drink the alcohol-saturated juice in silence. I glance over at him. He's focusing on consuming his drink. I gaze around at all the other people. Vince and Gretchen still aren't back yet. Someone's up at the DJ's turntables.

I think it's Francis, actually. Suddenly, the very familiar chords of one of my very favorite songs begins to play. A grin stretches across my face for the first time all night, and I throw the punch down, looking over at T.J., who winces, crushing the drink in his hands.

_8 o'clock Monday night and I'm waiting_

_To finally talk to a girl a little cooler _

_than me_

_Her name is Nona, she's a rocker with _

_a nose ring_

_She wears a 2-way, but I'm not quite _

_sure what that means_

I grab him, pulling him out unto the dance floor. A scowl is plastered across his face. I shoot him a look, but he remains stiff.

_And when she walks, all the wind blows_

_and the angels sing_

_But she doesn't notice me_

It's a fast dance song. But T.J.'s acting really strange. I mean, sure he's dancing, but his face is all screwed up and everything.

"Why do you look like that?" I ask, curious.

He shoots me a clueless look. Yeah, right. Like he doesn't know what I'm talking about. Sure. Liar.

"Look like what?" He questions, feigning naivety and innocence.

I roll my eyes as he cringes at the next lyrics.

'_Cause she's watching wrestling_

_Creaming over tough guys_

_Listening to rap metal_

_Turntables in her eyes_

He shivers, shaking his head.

"I hate this song," He mutters violently.

I give him a look and he cringes once more.

_It's like a bad movie; she's looking_

_through me, if you were me then you'd be,_

_Screaming "someone shoot me,"_

_as I fail miserably,_

_Trying to get the GIRL ALL THE BAD _

_GUYS WANT…_

I shoot him a questioning look.

"Why?" I inquire, still dancing.

Everyone's rocking out here. I jump up and down with them, glancing at T.J., who's stiffly doing the same.

_She likes the Godsmack and I like Agent Orange_

_Her CD changer's full of singers that are_

_mad at their dad_

_She said she'd like to score some reefer _

_and a 40_

_She'll never know that I'm the best that_

_she'll never have_

T.J. shakes his head, not giving me an answer. This girl the band's talking about is really strange. Ugh, I could never date a redneck. I could date a guy who drives a Trans Am, maybe. No moustache or mullet though… Ugh.

"Why?" I joke, smirking, "Does it hit a little too close to home?"

_She likes them with a moustache_

_Racetrack season pass_

_Driving in a Trans Am_

_Does a mullet make a man?_

He says nothing.

Was I right?

T.J. looks up.

"Yeah, actually. It's a bit of a joke among my friends, to tell the truth," He confesses, sounding somewhat bitter.

The words that follow (in the song) are my favorite. But T.J. cringes worse than before.

_There she goes again with fishnets on_

_Dreadlocks in her hair_

_She broke my heart, I want to be sedated_

_All I wanted was to see her naked_

I grin, laughing at the lines, but he shivers a little.

"Oh, come on, T.J., like there's a girl you couldn't get…" I reply, not buying it.

He looks me straight in the eyes.

"You'd be surprised," He mumbles, sounding somewhat sad.

_Now I'm watching wrestling_

_Trying to be a tough guy_

_Listening to rap metal_

_Turntables in my eyes_

_I can't grow a moustache, and I ain't got_

_no season pass _

_All I got's a moped_

I shoot him a look as he winces once more.

"What do you mean?" I grill.

He sighs.

"You always want the things you can't have, Spinelli," T.J. replies sadly.

Who is he talking about?

"Who're you talking about?"

He smirks mysteriously.

"I would've thought that you'd know by now, Spinelli."

Loren ;

Hmm. Oh, don't own the song, by the way. Or Recess. The song's Girl All the Bad Guys Want by Bowling for Soup. I dunno why, but for some reason, it always made me think about Spinelli and T.J. No idea why. I think it's the wrestling thing…

Anyways, yeah…

Gym is evil. Shakespeare is evil. I am being tormented by a dead British dude. I must be some bad luck magnet or something. A dead British guy and a very-much-alive C.A. Teacher. And my crazy 'roid-popping (I swear, I mean, I bet that's why he's so short… and bald) lazy Gym Teacher who constantly barks at us while he just stands there in all of his steroid-enduced glory, egging us on with barks and yells to run or die.

Well, okay, so it's not exactly like P. Diddy's voting campaign, but the yelling is so freakin' annoying. I mean, he's a wrestling coach, for cripes' sake… What the heck does he know about running! He seems to think that we're animals who enjoy being raced and bet on and against. We had to do "The Death March" yesterday, and yes, it is as bad as it sounds. See, you run around the top of our extremely wide gym (it takes nine-and-a-half-laps around it to make a mile!), then JOG down the stairs (as he kept yelling at us… I swear, I'm scarred for life, I'm gonna have frickin' nightmares about it), then JOG back up for three minutes, punctuated by a one minute break, then back to running for two minutes, then a one minute break, then back to running for a minute, then walking again for one minute. And then the vicious cycle restarts itself. It continues like this with threats that because people stop (I mean, duh, it's gonna happen, 'cause we're not freakin' robots) he'll stop the timer, thus making us really run for like thirty minutes straight, instead of the twenty we're supposed to.

My friend's face was purple, she could barely breathe (and she doesn't even have asthma). The idiotic negligent gym teachers, as usual, did nothing… Nothing includes NOT telling her to stop, walk, slow down, NOT taking her to the nurse, NOT asking her if she was okay, and NOT forcing her to stop.

Of course, our gym teacher has yet to realize that we are not perfect. We are Americans, and thus, two-thirds of us are overweight (as a population), and thus, most of us, are out of shape. Not to mention that we girls have been swimming for three weeks, and so we weren't really used to running for so friggin' long. Or, for that matter, doing the Death March, which we never really do (Not that we don't do bad stuff… I mean, usually they do the whole stop and start thing by making us run around up there… Sans steps. We ran around the track for ages… Oh, and there was an obstacle course too… Blech).

Aside from that, I'll speed up and hustle once I DON'T have a cold and have figured out the secret to anaerobic respiration. I mean, you need air to run, to bring blood to your muscles, duh! I mean, shouldn't they kinda know that? Anyways… Thus ends my freakishly long gym rant. Ugh, I've got it tomorrow…

You prolly didn't want to hear all that, but hey, you got a new chapter outta it! Yay!


	31. Girl, You Ain't Psychic

Lol… T.J. hates that song because his friends bug him about it, and it was on their radio a lot… So, imagine Lawson and other dumb jock types that T.J.'s friends with constantly singing the song to mock him… Except they don't know the words… lol…

But, as you'll see, they seriously need some better music at this prom. Not that there's a really crappy song next, but there's a mention of J.Lo and Marc Anthony, and this was before I knew that they actually sang horribly together.

Anyways, Spinelli gets a semblance of revenge on Gretchen and Vince.

Don't own Recess, by the way… Just saying…

I make my way over to Vince and Gretchen, who are dancing close, and I mean close. Okay, yeah, the song that's playing is some strange concoction of J.Lo and that weird guy she's married to now, but it, like their marriage, is not really very good or long-lasting.

When they see me, which, of course they do, I mean, seriously, how couldn't they? I'm about five nine, and, when you add the heels, well, I'm pretty tall, and wearing a really long dress with a slit all the way up to _there_. I'm a really noticeable person, when you think about it. People still cower and run away in fear, actually. It's a real self-esteem booster. As I was saying, they turn around and glare at me, but I cross my arms over my chest, furious, and keep on walkin'.

"Vince, Gretch, hey!" I begin, anger heavy in my tone.

Gretchen shoots me a look, feigning anger.

"Spinelli, I don't want to talk to you," She snaps, voice solid.

My glare intensifies. If she hadn't known me since I was five, she'd be shaking.

"Look, Gretch, the charade's over, okay? I heard you and Vince talkin'. Thanks a lot," I hiss, glancing around at everything.

Her face registers shock, as does Vince's. I roll my eyes at the two of them.

"Guess you didn't predict that, did you?" I retort, annoyed.

They shrug. I roll my eyes. I'm not getting any apology outta these two. I turn to leave.

"Have a nice time on that date," I mutter, storming off.

I honestly don't know why this is pissing me off so much. Vince and Gretchen are okay in my books, really. I'm not jealous of either of them. I don't know. It's probably just because Jared's leaving and Fitzy's in love with me and the punch is spiked and my parents are nutcases.

Maybe I just need a boyfriend. That's probably it.

"Speaking of dates, how's yours?" Gretchen replies, as I am almost gone.

This makes me stop, and I turn around, shooting her a glare. Again with the talk… First Helaine, then Fitzy, of all people, now her! Sheesh.

"Don't start. This has been way too crappy already, thanks," I bark, turning to leave once more, this time running into T.J. as I so often do.

He catches the look on my face and nods, following me out as I light another cigarette.

Loren ;

Man, just how many times in this fic HAS Spinelli LITERALLY run into T.J.? I know it's been a lot. I should count… Now that I think about it, I should also count all those "moments" Spinelli has with T.J. There aren't a lot of those, though…

Anyways… Review if you liked it. I'll put up one more chapter of this, and, man, it's getting pretty close to the end, no? Anyways, that chapter will be the last for at least a week because I'm going to Mexico for Spring Break tomorrow… cackles evilly


	32. Childhood: Revisited in Every Possible W...

Okay, if there's some things in this chapter that don't make any sense, it's because I wrote this chapter (and the next chapter, which was originally part of this one, but I decided to separate them because it was too revealing or something… and I also wrote the chapter after the next chapter, which was originally supposed to be the end, but I thought it was way too sappy), and then, I got an idea and suddenly decided to write another chapter before this one, but that meant I had to edit it a little. However, later I decided that the chapter that was supposed to be before this one didn't fit anymore, especially when I decided to change the ending, and so I had to edit it yet AGAIN. So, if there's anything kinda weird about it, it's prolly 'cause I didn't catch it…

Grr, I changed the ending so much. It started out as the end of the next chapter, and then it was the chapter after that, and then it was the actual ending… Which is, AIE, approaching!

The dance ended a while ago. We were outta there in a millisecond. I still didn't get what T.J. meant. How would I know who he was talking about?

He's driving around aimlessly because neither one of us want to go back home, but we don't know where we do want to go. The thought of playing a prank at the school comes up, but my brains and nerves are shot. I have absolutely no idea where he's taking me.

It's a little past midnight.

Finally, T.J. parks the car. Where are we?

The darkness encompasses almost everything. But then I see it. The glimmer of an old sign. Third Street School. I shoot him a curious look, but he shrugs it off. We both leave the car, walking through the gates of our old schoolyard, heels and dress shoes clicking across the ancient blacktop we played on, walked on, ran on, drew on…

He begins to climb Old Rusty, and I have no choice but to follow him. Once we reach the top, where King Bob used to reign, where T.J.'s office was when he controlled nine out of ten Monstickers on the playground, we climb up unto it's room, leaning against it, looking at the stars.

I turn to face him, discovering that he's looking at me too.

"T.J., why are we up here?" I ask quietly.

T.J. turns back to face the stars, hands behind his head. He shrugs. I throw my hands behind me, over the roof's point, sighing. It's a cold night for the spring, and I can feel it most of all.

I shiver, and T.J. notices, draping his jacket over me. I shoot him a grateful look.

"Thanks."

He nods back, smiling at me a little. It's strange. He's been so nice to me lately. And I've done nothing to deserve it. I pull out another cigarette, lighting it, and puffing on it a bit. Then I turn over to look at him.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I question, perplexed.

He takes a cigarette out of my top, snatching the lighter from my hand, using it to light the cigarette. He does it like he's done this for years. I'm kind of surprised, not just in the fact that he smokes like he's smoked before, but that he took the thing out of my dress like it was nothing. He blows on it, shrugging again.

I shoot him a look.

"Tell me!" I hiss, annoyed.

He doesn't answer for a minute. Then he blows out, moving the cigarette he holds.

"Because, Spinelli, we're friends. Friends do stuff like that for their friends," He replies calmly.

Friends? When did we become friends? How did we become friends again? This makes no sense. But this isn't a topic I'm going to go over right now. I smirk, thinking of how Vince and Gretchen played us.

"Hey, Teej, Vince and Gretchen tricked us. They didn't really have a relationship. But, surprisingly, they've started up an actual one…"

Teej shoots me a quizzical look.

"I overheard them talking," I mutter in reply.

T.J. nods, gazing at the stars and exhaling smoke. I do the same. Then a thought, an insatiable curiosity hits me. What about that girl? The one he can't get. Who is she? I twist to gaze at him silently for a moment, gathering the words in my head. His eye catches mine.

"What?" He says, dragging on the cigarette.

I smile a little.

"I was just wondering about that girl you say you can never have. Who is she?" I inquire, curiosity getting the best of me.

T.J. glances at me, panic apparent in his eyes.

"I can't tell you," He mumbles hastily, not meeting my eyes.

I turn his head towards me with my hand.

"Teej, it's me. I've known you since, well, forever. We're neighbors. Your sister went out with my brother. My other brother and your big brother were best friends. Now, come on, you can tell me…" I beseech, hand on his shoulder.

T.J. shakes his head no, turning away from me, shrugging out of my grip. A moment later, he turns to face me. There's a crafty look on his face, so I KNOW he's up to something. I'm not going to like this question.

"Hey! You're one to talk! What about you and Mr. Fitzgerald?" He retorts, arms crossed over his chest.

Now there's a name I didn't need to hear at the moment.

"It's Jack," I correct automatically.

Teej's eyebrows raise in shock. He shoots me a suspicious look.

"So you're on a first name basis with him, eh, Ashley?" He rejoins.

I glare at him. If just about anyone else called me Ashley, I woulda slugged 'em. But it's T.J., and I'm really tired and kinda drunk, so I'll let it go. Especially what he and the others did for me when I was an Ashley. I shake my head, pushing myself up and dragging angrily on the cigarette.

"It's not like that, T.J." I snap angrily.

He gives me a look, rolling his eyes.

"Right," He mutters coolly, drawing on the cigarette.

I can't believe that he doesn't believe me. Ugh. He really pisses me off sometimes. I punch him hard in the shoulder.

"Hey! Look, I'm talking to you here! Okay, technically, this is none of your beeswax, but I'm gonna tell you anyways because I don't want you thinking that I'm sleeping with my English teacher or anything, okay?" I snap loudly.

Now I've got his attention. His eyes are startled. I look down, inhaling the cigarette smoke.

"Okay, after the Vince and Gretchen thing, he came out unto the porch. We talked about smoking, and him wanting to jump me, not that he's the only one, of course, but he swore that he was sorry and asked for me to forget it. Not that I could forget it… I can't really forget anything. And he offered to transfer, leave, or move if I was uncomfortable being around him. Then he kissed me. And then he said that he loved me even though I could never love him, even though he knew it was wrong. I told him why I couldn't love him, why I couldn't love anyone, and then he asked for a favor. That was the kiss you saw. After that, I apologized and went after you because I was afraid that you would tell everyone what I'd done, just like I'd told everyone about you all those years ago. I saw you talking to Ashley A. And I asked Ashley A., and she said that you had told her some personal stuff and that you'd tell me if you ever mustered up the courage. I went outside to find you, to try and find out why on Earth you'd done something so nice for me, and that's when I overheard Vince and Gretchen. Then I went back inside, and we were dancing, and Jared cut in. Jared told me that the president needed him again, so he had to leave. That's about it," I explained, getting a little misty-eyed around the part where Jack said he loves me.

T.J. seems to be taking all this in, but I merely gaze up at the stars. The stars don't judge, or hate. The stars are merely static balls of gas that burn constant. But stars, like everything else change. They don't last forever, they, too, die.

I feel a warm hand on my icy shoulder. It's T.J. and I glance over at him, sucking in the smoke and blowing it out.

"H-he l-l-loves y-you?" Teej stutters, in awe.

I nod, wiping at my eyes a little, not wanting to think about it. But I have to know. I roll over, pushing myself up a little, looking him straight in the eyes. It's almost as if I can see right through him. He's hiding things from me.

But his secrets remain hidden and well-kept.

"T.J., who is that girl? Tell me now," I demand softly.

T.J. looks away, then looks down, then, finally, his eyes roll back up towards mine. He sighs, tearing his stare away from mine.

"I suppose I ought to tell you. You deserve to know anyways," He murmurs quietly.

His eyes seem to be on everything but me. They dart around, and for some reason, he looks nervous. Come on, it can't be that bad. Right?

He exhales, taking a drag on his cigarette, his wandering gaze finally stopping on the stars.

"Spinelli, the girl, she's… She's… You…" He answers nervously, quietly.

Loren ;

Ooh, what a cliffhanger! An actual one for once… Now, how long have you been waiting for him to say that, huh? Anyways, just what WILL Spinelli say to that?


	33. Straight Shooting

Sorry about the cliffhanger… But I got back like three hours ago. I gave Mom the laundry, took a shower, turned my computer on, ate, and now I'm posting this. I haven't even checked my email yet. I'd post the next chapter, but I really hate it, and so I'd have to post it with the chapter after it, and I don't want to post three chapters in one night.

So sue me, I'm lazy… Nah. Anyways, this was originally supposed to be the ending, but I didn't like it, and I was thinking of what I'd say to that, and I thought it was kind of lame.

At first, I don't think I heard him right. But I must have, because his eyes keep darting over at me, and then darting away once he realizes that I'm looking at him. The hand holding the cigarette is shaking slightly.

And then it hits me. It hits me that I'm this girl he wants. That I'm this girl he can't have. That he actually wants me. After all the crap I've put him through, no, in spite of it, it's me he wants. It doesn't make a lick of sense. But nothing really does, does it?

I pull on my cigarette, thinking. I don't really know what I feel about T.J. It's kind of ambiguous actually. I glance over at him, and I feel so bad for him, for what I did to him. I know I shouldn't leave him in this state of nervousness, of panic. But I can't help it. He peeks over at me.

"Are you going to say anything?" He asks, almost desperately.

I don't know if I even can say anything. I don't know what to say. I don't know what I feel. I don't know much of anything right now. I'm not sure that I even know if the sky's still blue, or if the grass is still green. But I look over at him intently anyways, and something pops up.

"Do you love me?" I blurt, the question coming out faster and more bluntly than it ever should have.

He props himself up too, running a hand over my shoulder. The look in his eyes almost kills me. It's so sappy and sentimental. We're having a Hallmark moment, a Kodak moment. I'm not a girl who has moments like these. I laugh at Hallmark movies because they're so sappy and unbelievable, and well, the Kodak moments I have aren't pleasant ones.

Since when did I become the kind of girl who's got two guys in love with her? Since when did I become the girl who decent guys even glance at twice? How did I wind up here? How did this all happen?

I'm thinking of all their voices. My mom's, my dad's, Jack's, Mrs. Finster's, Helaine's, Sydney's, T.J.'s, even my own. Everyone who's ever said that I have feelings for T.J. Every inclination I've ever had that he might harbor secret affection for me. Every time I've denied it. Every past memory he's in. Every time we've fought. Every time.

He turns me to face him, hands shaking a little. He pulls me into a kiss, a deep one, and I toss my cigarette away. I guess this is a yes. We break apart minutes later. Staring, still staring. He smiles, though how he can, I can't understand.

I haven't really given him much of an inclination towards how I feel. I haven't said anything, but I kissed him back. I'm mixing him up more than a blender. I hate being wishy-washy. He grins breathlessly.

"Yeah, Spinelli, I think I'm in love with you," He pants, putting his cigarette out on the metal.

He's smiling, strangely enough, and so I look at him, breathless myself. I ask him the only thing I can ask him.

"How?"

He smiles a little, as if he doesn't know why I can't understand why he loves me. He puts an arm around me.

"How? How couldn't I, Spin? How couldn't I love you, all of you? Your lack of patience, your short temper, your anti-social tendencies, your bitter insults, your snappy comebacks, the way you shout, your lack of tact, your personality, the way you love wrestling… I don't know, Spin, I just do. I do and I don't care why. I don't need to. Just know that I do. I think a part of me always has, ever since I met you forever ago. I think I always will," He answers, both simply and honestly.

Guys never say things like that to girls like me. That's probably the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me, and considering it's T.J. who said it… It's still so amazing to me that he can love me after all I've done to him. Out of anyone in the entire world, I've put him through more crap than everyone else combined. I at least owe him a shot at it.

I look over at T.J.

"I guess I owe you a shot at it, right?" I mutter.

Loren ;

Hope you like it!

I don't own Recess. Um, or anything that can make me money, really.

Hope you all had a good vacation!


	34. So Much for My Happy Ending

I actually liked that ending too. But then I thought that I'd be kind of offended if someone said that to me… For a long time, this chapter that you see here WAS the ending. But then I'm like, hey, it totally sucks… Too happy… Too sweet. So, boo hoo, it's not.

I just, you know, got started on a good vein, and then it kinda fizzled out.

Anyways, I do not own Recess…

Teej's face looks happy and then sad.

"Look, Spinelli, I don't want you to give me a shot because you feel obligated," He responds, sounding almost angry.

I shake my head, sighing.

"Look, I don't know how I feel about you right now and I won't tomorrow. But you've been so nice to me, nicer than anyone else has ever been, when I've given you no reason to be that way. You should hate me for all I've done to you, but you don't. You love me in spite of that. That's real love, Bathwater love, actually. If I don't give you a shot, I'm an idiot. I don't know if I can love you, if I can even love anyone. But I'm willing to try with you," I explain softly.

He looks me over, smiling a little.

"You want me to take you home?"

Home? There's no way I want to go home. I shake my head.

"Nah. Maybe we could go to your house instead. Watch a movie or something?" I suggest.

T.J. grins, getting up.

"What do you want to watch, Spin?" He implores.

I smile, feeling pretty happy for once. Who would've thought it'd be with T.J.? I think it over for a moment.

"Breakfast Club?"

He nods, sliding down. He lands safely, and then helps me down. Together, we climb down Old Rusty just like we used to do in the old days. But then, when we reach the ground, he does something we didn't do much in the old days.

He kisses me, passionately, and we're making out on our old playground. I never thought that this could ever happen a month ago, or, for that matter, ever wanted it to. I guess I don't really hate him after all.

- Loren ;

Aw, what a sweet, fluffy, if brief ending… NOT! I just don't do those kind of endings… However, the ending really isn't so bad compared to some of my other ones… Anyways, so, um, REVIEW! And, really, I do appreciate the reviews. Not the flames so much, but hey, what're ya gonna do? I mean, what doesn't kill ya only makes ya stronger, right? Okay, so REVIEW!


	35. Swing, Swing, Ewing

I apologize in advance for pulling a Bobby Ewing (can you tell I've been dying to make that reference for weeks?). Seriously, I ought to be ashamed.

I still don't own Recess.

Speaking of which, the title reminded me of something. This chapter's dedicated to Ewing Kauffman… From what my mom said about you, you seemed like a great guy. You did a lot of good for a lot of people… My family included. I hope wherever you are that you're… uh, happy.

Anyways, sorry for getting oddly sentimental there.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Why do I always have these freakishly weird dreams?

Wait a second. I'm not in my room. I'm actually on Old Rusty. Okay, so how much of that was a dream?

Crossing my fingers, I look over my shoulder, hoping that T.J.'s not there. But, naturally, as is my luck, he is. Great.

Well, at least he's asleep, right? I mean, it would be so much worse if he was awake.

He looks cold though. And I'm wearing his jacket, so I ought to give it back. I mean, I can't accept that. I gingerly push it over to him.

Maybe I oughtta get to sleep.

Yeah. I'm tired anyways.

"I love you, Spinelli."

What?

Who said that?

I hope it wasn't T.J.

Yeah, I'm just hearing things. I've got to be.

There's no other explanation. Okay, I'm sleeping now.

Closing the eyes and everything.

Okay, what is that moving nearby me? And did something just kiss me?

"I love you, Spinelli."

Rats. There it is again. Better see who it is this time…

And so here I am, being stupid enough to open my eyes. Now I'm not dumb, and a large part of me knew that I wasn't hallucinating and exactly who said that to me, but I'm stubborn, so I tried anything to aid me in my denial.

But, hey, when I saw those blue eyes and that face only inches away from mine, it hit me. The full force of this truth I'd been denying for weeks.

And a force like that, well, it doesn't leave much in its path, if you get my drift.

So I sorta panicked and fell off Old Rusty, landing right on my back.

Ouch is right.

And man does it hurt. I'm probably lucky I didn't get paralyzed. But I maybe broke a rib or two, ugh. Anyways, so Teej is looking down at me, with this positive look of cluelessness on his face.

"Hey! Teej, here's a little tip, okay? Next time you declare your undying love for me, don't try and do it while you think I'm asleep, okay? You don't wanna give me a myocardial infarction, now do you?" I screech mockingly.

T.J. has the grace to blush. He oughtta.

"I'd, uh, better be taking you home. Don't want you to have a myocardial infarction, now do we?" He mutters, shimmying down the junglegym.

He doesn't even know.

"Oh, come on, Teej. You don't even know what a myocardial infarction is," I retorted, straining to get up.

T.J. rolled his eyes, getting own.

"I'm in Health too you know…" He mutters, helping me up.

I shrug.

"Well, smoking is a risk factor… So watch out for yourself too," I snap.

He smirks. Great.

"Now, Spin, we oughtta get you home," T.J. says bossily, dragging me to his car. Great.

Loren ;

Now, this is where it gets really confusing. Just **how** much of that was Spinelli dreaming? Obviously the entire last chapter… But before that, who knows?

Okay, I'm gonna say that it was before T.J. said that he thought he was in love with her, because there's something about that in another chapter… But I still dunno when. Spinelli definitely explained to him about Gretchen, Vince, and Jack… I'm gonna say that she fell asleep sometime between when she was staring at the stars and T.J. said "The Girl, she's you." blah, blah blah, blah stuff… If she fell asleep while he said it, than half of it's kinda imagined… It prolly be better if she fell asleep when she was staring at the stars though. Even though I like the "The Girl, she's you" speech thing myself.

Either way, the point is, when Spinelli woke up, she had some idea of T.J.'s feelings for her. Now whether that was from dream or reality, I cannot say…

Love you guys!


	36. Unfair Fraternal Family Fights

Okay, yes, I know that kind of sucked. But we authors love to just jerk people around… Anyways…

I wrote this chapter because a sudden idea occurred to me and then inserted it before the playground scene, but then I decided that it worked better here for the ending.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, a myocardial infarction is a fancy word for a heart attack.

Anyways, I don't own Recess, Spinelli, Joey Spinelli, Vitto Spinelli, Flo Spinelli, Bob Spinelli, or, for that matter, T.J. I do own Delinquent, Anarchy, and Rebel.

On with the fic!

Why did he take me home? Ugh. And Joey's car is parked in front of it again. And Vitto's motorcycle. Great. Two more to add to the difficulty of the evening that is sure to follow. I toss my cigarette on the ground, pulling out another, which I light, knowing for sure that what follows won't be pleasant. I look to T.J., and, as of right now, I'm kind of hoping that he comes in with me because that way it can't get that ugly, right? I mean, he'll be a guest and you can't get ugly in front of a guest.

"You wanna come in and watch the train wreck? Bet mom cooked some dinner," I propose.

T.J. shrugs and we waltz in. As I suspected, Mom and Dad are talkin' to Vitto and Joey, which is entirely unsurprising. I really ought to change. I look at T.J.

"Teej, I gotta change, so, just stay put, 'mmkay?" I whisper, hoping Mom and Dad can't hear me.

T.J. merely nods solemnly, and I take that as a sign to bolt up the stairs. Anyways, once I'm up in my room, I shut the door with practiced silence, locking it, and then dead-bolting it shut. Yeah, I got a dead-bolt. Wonder why. I oughtta have one on my window.

I remove the pack and the lighter first, cigarette still in my mouth. These I throw on my bed, kicking the high heels off violently. One of them embeds itself in the wall, but I am way beyond caring. Eagerly I peel off the dress, pulling on a short skirt, fishnets, my oldest pair of boots, and my favorite tank-top. Then I snatch the lighter and cigarettes again. Of course, that doesn't change much else, but I undo my door and hustle down the stairs.

Mom and Dad have already found T.J., which is not good, and then they take one look at me, gasping.

"Ashley!" They shriek.

This, naturally, stirs Joey and Vitto, who also walk over. Joey's wearing a really stupid outfit, which I assume is either his work outfit or something he wore to one of his "gigs". Yep, my brother, the rockstar, the struggling artist. Anyways, Vitto's wearing his typical white t-shirt, a pack of cigarettes in the shoulder sleeve, jeans, bomber jacket, and boots.

Even the cats are getting in on it. Now, I don't really own them, I mean, they're animals just like me, and you can't own something alive. Sure, you can say you can, and you can control them, but that won't make you own them. Anyways, they live in my backyard, except for one, who insists on living in my room. So Rebel is jumping at T.J., Delinquent is attacking Vitto, and Anarchy is peeing on my parents' feet. I can only smirk at the looks on their faces.

"Ashley, get this stupid cat off me!" Dad howls.

"Hey, Anarchy, stop when you're ready, okay?" I say to the black cat, leaning down to pick up the little kitten scratching at T.J.'s shoe.

Dad scowls at me, and I pet the cat calmly. But then he turns to Vitto.

"Now, Vitto, you got to get a job."

Oh brother. The family Spinelli is about to get rather messed up once again. The eternal argument between my father and my brother, the two alpha males struggling for control. When will Vitto get a job?

I suspect that he has one, actually, because he's not living off their money. But Dad's just mad because he doesn't seem to have a career plan.

"Look, I'm surviving, Dad."

True enough. He doesn't LOOK malnourished.

"But what do you do, son?"

Vitto rolls his eyes.

"What do you do, Pop?"

Well, that makes Dad silent.

"I have a job. You don't. So get off your duff and get a proper job!"

Duff. Man, they just don't use words like that anymore.

"Hey, Dad, I'm not livin' off of your money, am I?"

True. But Dad doesn't care.

"How are you even making a living?"

"I work. And I work hard, as hard as that is for you to admit, Pops!"

Dad scoffs.

"You wouldn't know hard work if it danced around ya naked."

Hmm.

"Look, so what if I don't have a career path planned out? I clean gutters, I build houses, I paint, I plumb, I weld, I fix cars, I do a lotta things, okay?"

Wow. He's impressive. A regular Jack of all trades.

"Besides, it's better than workin' at Burger Klown."

Uh oh. Joey looks mad.

Nah, wait, Joey's always mad. He's so jealous of Vitto. It really pisses me off.

"Hey. I got dreams, unlike you!"

"Don't put your brother down, Vitto!"

"Oh, shove it, Dad, spare me the lecture. I just came here to say hi to Ma, see my little sis, and Joseph here's an added bonus."

He turns around, giving me a brotherly hug. I haven't seen him for a really long time. He didn't come home for two Christmases. It's pretty sad. So I haven't seen him in about three years.

"Hey, Vitto, man, how are you?" I ask, smiling.

He grins at me.

"Las' time I saw ya, you were up to here, and considerably smaller," Vitto remarks, smirk forming, gesturing.

I nod, grinning back.

"Nice threads, sis," He says as I puff smoke in his face.

He really smirks this time.

"See, Vitto! You're making your sister a delinquent too. Look at that outfit, that cigarette, and that boy!"

Hey, wait… T.J.'s wearing a tux. They make no sense.

Okay, now it's personal. T.J. looks down and I set Rebel down, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Look, Dad, what I wear isn't your business. And for crying out loud, don't insult him, he's one of our neighbors! And if I am a delinquent, Vitto didn't make me one. Joey's the crook in the family." I retort.

Dad shouts back a reply and Joey looks outraged.

What? It's true!

"Ashley, we're just trying to do what's best for you. And don't call your brother a crook!"

I'm screaming now, an animal-like rage taking over me.

"You don't know what's best for me!"

They all look taken aback.

"Well, Ashley, we don't want you to be a slut, okay, so quit it with the short skirts and wrestling!"

This proves to be too much, and I storm out of the house, door slamming behind me, dropping my cigarette and getting another. I can't believe he said that. My own father.

Loren ;

Yeah, Poor Spinelli has problems. Anyways, review, please?


	37. Ripping Off My Dreams, Are We?

Yes, I know this chapter is very short, and that it's been a long while since I updated. Then again, it's been a long time since I got a review…

Anyways, um, don't own Recess.

T.J. and I are in his stupid car once again, still driving nowhere. Stupid parents. Ugh. Anyways, this is so stupid.

"Where should I take you?" He asks quietly, barely even glancing over at me.

I know where I wanna go. Duh.

"The hospital. I think I broke a rib or two. Guess we're in the same boat, eh, Teej?" I mutter sarcastically.

The hospital's an hour away. Great. I'm trapped in a car with a guy who's in love with me. Marvelous.

He'll probably try to cop a feel or something.

Well, he's clearing his throat, so here it comes. Better be prepared to shower him with a well-aimed punch.

"So, don't you have anything to say?" He says sharply.

Me have anything to say? Yeah right. I don't want to say anything, okay?

I keep ignoring him, but as usual, he only gets more persistent.

"Come on. You aren't going to ask how or why or even anything? You aren't even gonna say that you hate me? I've heard that one before and I can take it, so you can chill about hurting my feelings," He replies nonchalantly.

Like I care about "hurting his feelings". I mean, seriously. I don't answer still.

I think he's offended by my silence, but that's just too bad, ain't it?

He starts to speak, but I cut him off sharply.

"I don't care, T.J." I snap.

He frowns, looking bad at the road. However, as usual, when he isn't liked, he seeks a reason.

I know already what he's going to say.

"How? How couldn't you, Teej? How couldn't you love me, all of me? My lack of patience, my short temper, my anti-social tendencies, my bitter insults, my snappy comebacks, the way I shout, my lack of tact, my personality, the way I love wrestling… You don't know, Teej, you just do. You do and you don't care why. You don't need to. Just know that you do. You think a part of you always has, ever since you met me forever ago. You think you always will," I recited, in unison with T.J.'s I's.

I shot him a look, hands crossed over her chest.

"I've heard it all before," I shrug.

He's gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. This is gonna be one very long car ride, isn't it?

I didn't know it then, but I had no idea just what would happen because of that stupid car.

Loren ;

Dude, if you liked it, review.


	38. Fancy Tricks and Bein' Frisked

Dun, dun, dun! The second-to-last chapter! AHH! Sorry I've been so long in posting, but, yeah… Um, I own the evil cop and T.J.'s awesome car.

Uh, post, will ya? I happen to like posts…

I know this chapter's short, but it's sorta filler. And the last chapter's not very long either. Whatever. Anyways… Here you go! Hope you like it!

So we were driving along, and T.J. got all pissy again. I decided rather quickly that I needed a cigarette, and so I lit up.

Better.

Teej practically flipped out.

"No smoking! It'll kill you and me!" He snapped.

And then we got into this huge argument, like we always do. Which really isn't surprising.

Anyways, so one thing led to another little thing, and all these little things led up to one big thing.

What was the big thing? Well, I'll guarantee that it wasn't fun.

Okay, see, T.J. wasn't paying attention to the road, and so we wound up off the road, and then we were flying through the air in an impressive series of flips and twists. We just barely managed to land flat on the ground. Really.

Single most terrifying experience of my life. Good thing we were both buckled in, right? I'd have more than a sore rib. A lot more.

Man, this has been one long night, hasn't it?

"I can't believe you! You weren't paying attention to the road! We coulda died! Be more careful!" I hiss.

He stares back at me with this "I cannot believe you" look. Oh brother.

Ironic choice of words.

"Well, I was tied up in other matters, you know that as well as I do," He retorted.

Other matters. What kinda crap is that?

He's making excuses for himself and I don't like it.

"Look, bucko, you almost killed the both of us because of your carelessness!" I bite back.

He doesn't reply, so I continue tearing into him.

"You know, if you really love me so much, then you wouldn't have almost killed me!" I shrieked.

Suddenly, as if to make the terrible moment worse, a cop shows up.

"Is there a problem here, sir?" He asks, sneering.

His eyes are drawn immediately to the cigarette simmering in my fingers, then to my outfit, then to T.J. himself. Ugh, I swear, he just undressed me with his eyes.

I'm going to be ill.

"No, of course not, Sir," T.J. replies nervously.

I am not gonna say anything. I don't like the police. At all.

"Oh really? Well, what should I have you busted for? Prostitution? Illegal use of drugs? Speeding? Reckless Driving? So many things, no?" He says cockily.

Glancing at me, he grins disgustingly, leering.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid that you will have to come outside. I'm going to have to frisk you for weapons," He mutters slimily.

Of course, with him being a cop, I have to go outside the car. T.J.'s watching.

The cop has his hands all over me, and so I do the first thing I think of. I kick him in the nuts and run. Which is, I realize, an offense, but, hey, he was using his career to harass me, so I think I'm due.

Anyways, T.J. speeds off. Man, he drives so fast sometimes! We're at the hospital in literally about one minute. Well, what do you expect from a Mercedes?

Time to go inside, isn't it?

I puff a few last puffs on the cigarette because I know that they won't let me smoke in there, and then T.J. and I hop outta the car, walking into the lobby.

Loren ;

Wonder what'll happen in the next chapter, huh? Oh, well. I'm sorry, but I'm not at liberty to divulge that information.

What a pity!

Anyways, review! And Gracias!


	39. Sunny Skyes Ahead

Sorry, it's been a while since I've updated. Okay, so it's been ages.

I had finals and augh, you know… Just been so busy lately. Uh, went to France, had people stay at my house… The list goes on.

Anyways, here it is. The final chapter. About a year after I wrote it… Actually, I can't remember when I wrote the end 'cause I kept revising it… I think it was sometime around Christmas.

Sorry it's short, by the way… But hey! It's an ending. And it's kind of resolved, but kind of open-ended… And kind of happy. You'll see what I mean.

Let's see… I don't own Coke, The Catcher in the Rye, Skye Sweetnam, or the song Tangled Up in Me. Though I do own the CD, the book, and two twelve packs of Coke in the fridge… drools

Anyways, thanks to everyone (Madame Fist, ThruMyEyes, SammyKay, They-Call-Me-Orange, frigginpixiedust, come, LuffySP, pixievix, The Next Political Dynasty, Amber, ShyneInc, tweeny-weeny, Tara, Anya Urameshi, KimNamhee, Awesome Ashley4, Ashley Z., thesolitary-dragon, pissartist, mischeif-maker, SilverRainbow223, stacey, recess fan :), Rushi Tsunami, Yankee Doodle Blonde, Spinelli Woods, Esquire, Dixie Darlin, Clintronic Waldrup, Jillie Rose, xxBlueFire920xx, Kami no Hikari, and future reviewers) for reviewing.

As crazy as it may be, people liking stuff I write means a lot to me. Because I might not be the best writer out there, and I might not have the most wonderful, best written stories (and trust me, I've read some great ones, fanfiction or not… There's some really awesome ones on fictionpress. Like Stealing Madison. I love that one… But that's not the point)… And I have a HUGE problem with finishing them… But it still means a lot that it moved people to review. And it means a lot that you liked it. Makes me feel like my ideas aren't so bad after all, and that I'm not a horrible writer. Well, okay, I can spell, but that's a minor battle. Makes me feel like I'm actually doing something worthwhile, you know?

So, thanks a lot. Man, I got sappy there. I'm not a sappy person. Anyways, it's been a long day, and all, so with a final plead for reviews, I will let you get on with the story.

-

Ugh, the hospital is a graveyard at this time of night. Really.

I have an "appointment" with the "doctors" at nine. And it's like three in the morning now. Long night.

Right now I'm trying to get a Coke. But the stupid Coke machine isn't working. I put money in, pressed the stupid button, and, ugh…

Pressing, pressing, pressing…

AUGH!

"Why…does…nothing…in…my…life…go…right!"

I scream a loud, animal-like scream of rage before wailing on the Coke machine. The fists and feet fly at it, striking it with loud resistance.

"Why won't you work? All I wanted was a drink, and now I can't even get that! I've been through so much crap today! First of all, I wake up next to this guy that I hate, hungover to boot, my parents go psycho on me, then I get in a car chase, followed by a horrible school dance where I not only had to dance with T.J. three times, but a teacher proclaimed his love for me, I had to hit on my best friend's boyfriend, found out that they were lying to me and actually dating, and then was practically broken up with by my next boyfriend, followed up by a stupid dream, a painful fall off of a junglegym, my parents sniping at me again, a car flipping with me in it, a cop practically molesting me, and finding out that T.J.'s in love with me. Just peachy, ain't it! Now I want something to work in my favor tonight, but that's obviously not going to happen! Sheesh!" I rant, kicking the Coke machine repeatedly and hard.

Someone creeps up behind me, but I don't care 'cause all the guards are off duty anyways.

"Spinelli, sometimes I just don't get you. I want to know more, more, more about you," Comes the voice of T.J. once more.

Oh brother. Just what I need.

I turn around, hair swishing.

"What's there to know? I'm just the girl who's kicking the Coke machine," I retort defensively.

He shoots me a quizzical look, smirking.

"When did you become someone from a Skye Sweetnam song?" He jokes.

He listens to Skye Sweetnam? I'm gonna laugh my head off now.

"You listen to Skye Sweetnam, Mr. Macho? I wouldn't talk to your friends about that. They might get tangled up in you," I mock.

He rolls his eyes. Big, Macho T.J. I'm seriously gonna bust a gut laughing.

"So, you wanna know more, more, more about me?" I state, arms crossed over my chest.

T.J. nods, grin wide. Why does he want to know more about me? I'm secretive by nature. Seriously.

"Tell me everything."

I can't tell him anything.

"I'm not telling you anything."

His face is pleading and he looks so pathetic I can't resist. I sigh.

"I love you, but I don't know anything about you anymore. I don't know your favorite movie, color, book, song, artist, food, flower, gem… Anything!" T.J. begs.

I look down. I'm not that heartless, no matter how mean I've been tonight.

"Black. My favorite color… Is black," I answer pathetically.

T.J.'s smile runs from ear-to-ear. He looks so happy for no good reason.

"More?" He requests.

"I like The Catcher in the Rye."

He beams, and suddenly, something hits me.

But, unfortunately, I don't know what it is. Bummer.

He's so in love with me that it scares me. I give him a look.

"Why are we so screwed up, Teej? I mean, back in elementary school, I never thought that we'd wind up like this… With us hating each other and you in love with me… It's so paradoxical."

He shoots me an odd look, smirking a little. I don't get how he's so calm and collected, but, then again, I fell off a junglegym. Now he's laughing. This is so annoying.

"What's so funny?" I snarl at him.

He only laughs harder. Can you seriously believe this guy? And to think in my dream I was going out with him. Sheesh. What was I thinking?

So, seeing the look I'm giving him, he decides, wisely enough, of course, to start talking.

"Nothing… It's just so weird. I mean, I was half in love with you in elementary. Middle too, I think. I don't think I ever really hated you. I just didn't get why you were so mad for no reason, you know? And then, I guess, other stuff caught up with us… It all got way out of hand. The sad thing is that I've kissed you more in the last two weeks then just about anyone," T.J. jokes.

Seriously? He was in love with me then? And the last one? With Ashley A. as his girlfriend, seriously?

"Teej, you dated Ashley A," I say bluntly.

He smiles and shrugs, but then he gets all inquisitive.

"So, Spin, why did you get so mad at me?" He asks, extremely curious.

It's funny, because now I can't even really remember.

"I overheard you talking to Vince. I guess some of the stuff you said just kinda put me off. I dunno… It sounds so stupid now," I mutter, in explanation.

And, suddenly, he's grinning again. This means nothing good.

"What?" I hiss.

His smile widens. I didn't think that was possible. What's he so happy about anyways?

"Do you realize how we're talking to each other? It's like back in grade school. Like we're friends again. Are we friends again, Spinelli?" T.J. exclaims, overjoyed.

I freeze. What does a person say to something like that? A little fluffy for my taste.

"Honestly, T.J., I don't know."

I'm uncertain, a feeling I can't stand. I hate not knowing. But of course, then he pulls something completely outta left field.

He kissed me then. And I don't know what exactly came over me, but I was kissing him back, and suddenly none of this was so bad anymore.

Déjà vu. Seriously. Did this in fourth grade.

We broke apart a few seconds later, staring at ourselves in shock. Who wouldn't be shocked?

"So, are we, Spin?" T.J. posed thoughtfully.

I thought for a moment, even though I was pretty sure of my answer. And a smile slid across my face, from ear-to-ear.

"Yeah, Teej, I think we are," I breath back.

"I think we are," I repeat to myself, still unbelieving.

He smiles too.

"I think that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Spinelli."

THE END

- Soleil ;)

Aww, wasn't that just adorable? If you think so, REVIEW! Nah, just kidding… You don't have to… But I'd like it if you would. Then again, I'd like to not have any acne, but that's not happening, so shrugs… Oh, and I'd like to not have to bookmark Secret Life of Bees for C.A., but there's no way I'll get out of doing that… sigh

As for what happens afterward, well, I guess that's just up to you. :)

Rock on!


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